Retribution:Overseer's Return
by artykidd
Summary: The sequel M. How is Raph adjusting to life with his brother's and father after being gone for 11 years? And will his family still accept him when they find out what exactly it was he used to do?
1. Chapter 1

**It's here, the next installment in the "M" stories. Many thanks to Reijiro for her help with grammar, spelling, and all around help. If you want a good Raph fic, go read Cells and Serpents (part of the Tausha series). It's an excellent read. Also thanks go out to Thalpomene for letting me bounce ideas of off her. I appreciate the help chicas! This takes place about two months after the first story. Enjoy!**

Raphael walked into his room and flopped on his bed, sai still in hand. "Oooof!" He lay there on his back, silent for a few moments, his body halfway on his bed, his feet still on the floor. "I am SO sore." he said looking at his stuffed tiger, staring from its perch on the desk.

"You always talk to small inanimate objects, or just when no one else is around?" Donatello stood leaning on the doorway to Raphael's room, a simple grin decorating his face.

"I had no idea Dad was that fast!" Raphael explained, forcing himself to sit up and leaning on his elbows. "He do that to you guys too?"

"Ah, so you are now sparring _against_ Master Splinter." Donatello didn't even attempt to hide his laughter at the thought of his sometimes arrogant brother going up against their adopted father.

Raphael cut a glare at him, letting Donatello know that he was not amused. "Tired old bones my butt!" he muttered.

"Mmphf," Donatello covered his mouth to quiet his laughter. "Sorry Bro'. We all went through that during our personal training sessions. Those pressure points he applies really hurt."

"Tell me about it," Raphael replied now completely sitting up and rubbing at his right elbow. "I still don't get why it's called a funny bone."

Donatello perked up. "You really want to know?" he asked with enthusiasm.

"No"

"Oh, well…here." Donatello held out a container in his left hand. "Trade?"

Raphael took the container and passed his weapons to his brother. He watched to make sure that Donatello carefully and properly put them away. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the round plastic container and unscrewed the cap. He took a moment to sniff it. "It smells sweet. What is it?"

"It's a muscle rub," Donatello said while sitting in the chair at his brother's desk. "It's got some wild yam in it, I think." He shrugged his shoulder's turning around to look at his brother. "It's one of Master Splinter's herbal remedies."

"Thanks." Raphael held up the container for a brief second and then got up and put it on his desk. He began digging through a pile of clothes pulling out something to wear. "I'll give it a try after I take a shower."

"Sure," Donatello continued sitting quietly in the chair at the desk and thought for a minute. "You know Raph, it's been two months. You should really let me check your back, make sure everything's okay."

"OH NO," Raphael turned around quickly. "Caitlin said no more treatments."

"Correction," Donatello told him. "She said with any luck, you wouldn't need anymore treatments." With a sigh, Donatello stood up and walked to the door but stopped at the entrance to the hallway. "Raph, you're gonna have to trust us sooner or later. What are so you afraid of?"

_I'm a freak of nature and that's all you'll see._ That was what Raphael wanted to say that to his brother. He stood there, mouth open, but no words came out. He couldn't get them too.

Realizing he wasn't going to get a response, Donatello tried a less threatening question. "You still taking the medication she left you?"

"Yeah," he answered, "Every other day, just like she said."

"Good," Donatello smiled. _Well that's something_ he thought, getting ready to leave the room. "Mikey said dinner will be ready in ten minutes. I'll see you downstairs," he walked out. "Don't forget," he called out from the hallway, "It's your turn to do the dishes."

_Sure, whatever_, Raphael thought to himself. Mike did most of the cooking so rarely did the youngest ever clean up after dinner. Raphael had struck a deal with his youngest brother. As long as Mikey kept the dirty dishes to a minimum, he got to borrow three CD's a week from Raphael's collection. On one occasion, Michelangelo very proudly produced food on paper plates and disposable cups. It was a bargaining chip for something a little extra. He wanted to borrow Raphael's CDs and computer to play a game. Reluctantly, Raphael agreed. At first he wasn't going to do it, but his youngest brother threatened a horrendously dirty kitchen if he didn't.

_Outwitted by a 15 year old_, he thought to himself as he stepped into the shower. Rivulets of water danced down the various crevices of his back, created by all the surgeries and lingering scars.

(flashback)

"_We're going to be gone for awhile," Caitlin said, trying not to cry. "Promise me," she poked his chest with her finger, trying to get her point across. "Promise me you will let Donatello take a look at things to make sure your shell pieces keep growing with the rest of you." Caitlin knew that her pleas were more than likely falling on deaf ears but she had to try anyway._

"_What does he need to see it for?" Raphael started to argue. "I thought you said I didn't need that anymore."_

"_I said if we were lucky………"_

"_What do you mean WE!" Raphael interrupted. "I'm the one who gets stuck with all the needles and wakes up sore! I'm the one who ends up flipping out from the steroids not you!" The conversation had quickly gone from a pleasant good bye and was well on its way to an argument thanks to the large turtle. The look on her face told him he had gone too far._

"_I'm sorry," he whispered to her. Fortunately there was no one in the warehouse but the two of them. Jake was downstairs talking to Splinter. Caitlin had asked her husband for a minute or two to tell Raphael goodbye and now he had ruined it. Unsure of what to do, he pulled her into a hug and rested his chin on her head. "I'm sorry," he told her again, slowly rocking her side to side. "I didn't mean to hurt you."_

_Sniffling, Caitlin wiped her eyes and squeezed him tight. "I'm going to miss you," she admitted._

"_Then don't go, please?" he begged her. "You and Jake don't have to leave. You can get a place here in the city," he looked down at her face still holding tight to her shoulders. "Please?" he asked a second time._

"_We'll be back in a few months," Caitlin tried to reason with him. "You need this time with your family. No interruptions from me or Jake." She looked up, still trying not to cry and sucked in a breath. _

"_But what if they find out they don't like me?"_

_Caitlin hadn't realized just how scared he was until now. It was becoming evident in his voice. Caitlin held back a few more tears." They're going to love you," she encouraged. "They already do."_

He let the shower beat into his face and rinse the soap off his body. The warmth of the water eased the tension of his muscles and slowly he began to relax.

Donatello took one last look at his brother's medical files before dinner. He had only read Caitlin's notes. He hadn't worked up the courage to look at the photos. As much as he wanted to see them, it felt a bit like an act of betrayal if he did. He knew that Raphael was very private about his unusual physique. It occurred to Donatello that he had never seen his brother without a shirt. _It's the dead of summer,_ he thought. _He even goes out on patrol in that long sleeve black shirt. He's got to burn up like that._ Sighing, he closed the file and walked into the main room.

Raphael stepped out of the shower, dried off and began to get dressed. He pulled his pants on and was about to put his shirt on when he remembered the container Donatello had given him. _Might as well try it, it can't hurt_ he thought with a shrug of his shoulders Immediately his shoulders felt some relief as he rubbed the cream into his muscles. Putting the lid on the container, he raised his arms over his head and stretched, his joints popping as he did. "Oh yeah, much better," he said.

"Hang on Leo!" he heard Michelangelo's voice outside as the door opened. "I just need to use the….."

Raphael turned, but not before his youngest brother got an eyeful of his secret. Michelangelo said nothing but covered his mouth in shock.

Raphael became enraged when he saw Michelangelo's reaction. "Get out," he growled, pointing an accusing finger at his brother. "You're not supposed to see it! NOW GET OUT!" he screamed. In an act of pure anger he shoved his brother backwards. Michelangelo landed on the floor with his brother standing over him.

"No! Wait Raph!" Michelangelo panicked. "I'm sorry!"

Raphael raised a fist to his brother and glared at him, growling.

Michelangelo closed his eyes tight and raised his arms over his face, expecting the worst. 'WHUMP!' Raphael's fist hit the floor, landing next to his youngest brother's head. Michelangelo opened his eyes and his brother was gone, already in his room.

"Mikey!" Donatello came running up the stairwell. "Are you okay?"

Still a bit shocked, Michelangelo sat up and just nodded yes as his brother checked him over.

"I heard Raph yelling at you, what happened?" Donatello asked.

"I didn't mean to Don, honest!" Michelangelo tried to explain. "I thought the bathroom was empty so I just walked in and……and……I saw his back." He looked at Donatello, trying to think of a way to describe the sight. "It was…" he paused for a moment.

At that same instant, Raphael came out dressed in his usual gear for a nighttime patrol, backpack in hand. He stopped at the top of the stairwell and turned for a brief second and stared at his two brothers. Still angry, he glared at them, his eyes nothing more than small slits. He eyed them and hesitated for only a second then jumped down to the first level and ran out of the lair.

Hearing the yells and seeing Raphael leave, Leonardo turned to his father, "Sensei?"

"Go Leonardo," Splinter agreed. "Make sure he is alright, I will see to Michelangelo and Donatello."


	2. Chapter 2

**Many thanks go out again to Reijiro for proofreading this for me. She's good at catching my boo-boos. As always, I hope everyone enjoys and please review. And I forgot this earlier, I don't own 'em, blah, blah, blah, yada, yada, yada. We all know no one of us owns the turtles. (faints briefly from disappointment.) Okay, on with the story. BTW, there is a bit of spanish at the end of the story _No me lastime por favor_** **means "Please don't hurt me" and _un poco estupido _means "a little stupid." I'm hoping I got the translations right. If I didn't, please let me know so I can change it.**

A single prison guard walked down the lonely hallway, his footsteps echoing off the walls as he went. He eyed the last block and headed towards his destination, a single cell at the end. He stopped in front of the cell door and punched in the key code to unlock it. A few small noises indicated the code worked and the door quietly slid open.

"Hello Robert," the prisoner nodded.

"Good morning Mr. Wallace," the guard returned the greeting, walking over to the man sitting on the simple cot.

"Morning?" Mr. Wallace questioned. "I don't see the light of day in here so telling what time of day it is, is a difficult task." He held his arms out as the guard approached him with handcuffs. A metal 'clink' told they were locked around Overseer's wrists.

"Ready to go?" the guard asked.

Politely, the prisoner smiled, nodded and began to step out of the cell to walk down the hall. The two sets of footsteps sounding in time with each other. "Just a few more stops to make on the way out," the guard indicated with a show of fingers. The pair made a few detours and picked up two more individuals before heading out. Unsure of what was going on, the extra prisoners just followed along.

Stopping at the gate, the guard turned over a clipboard to the desk sergeant. The portly man inspected the paper work and eyed the three prisoners in the man's keeping. "Where're these mutts going?" he grumbled.

"Government wants them transported to a maximum security prison," the gaurd Robert explained. "I'm not sure where," he shrugged his shoulders. "I just do what they tell me. I'm supposed to drop them off to a pair from the FBI."

"Humphf,"the desk sergeant grunted, his pot belly jumped at his little noise. "Federal bureaucrats are afraid to tell anyone anything." He handed the clipboard back and leaned forward, giving the inmates a hateful look. "Make sure you keep these things in line."

"Yes sir," the guard answered and walked the three prisoners out to a transport van.

Thirty minutes later, a guard was found dead in the back of a supply closet, without his uniform.

Raphael raced across the rooftops. His long sleeves, gloves and mask made him very hot but he didn't remove them. It was still dusk and he didn't want his face exposed while there was still light out. Taking a giant leap, he sailed across an alleyway to another rooftop. His mind still racing with thoughts of earlier events, he kept running. His backpack bounced up and down with each step. He was well aware of the fact that, several blocks earlier, he had picked up an extra pair of footsteps trying to catch up with him. _Better see who that is following me,_ he thought.

Instinctively he picked up speed to widen the gap between himself and whoever was pursuing him. When he felt he had enough space, Raphael ducked behind a large wall, dropped his backpack, and flattened himself up against the brickwork. His senses heightened due to the adrenaline rush he was experiencing, he focused on the sounds of the approaching footsteps coming across the rooftop. _A little more………… closer_ he told himself, his fingers gripping at the nine millimeter in his hand. _Closer………NOW!_

Immediately Raphael jumped out and tackled whoever had been chasing him. The figures rolled across the hot tar of the rooftop. When they finally stopped, Raphael was kneeling on top, his gun aimed only inches away from the head of whoever had been shadowing him. Leonardo froze, looking up the barrel pointed at his face.

When the van was five miles away from the prison, it pulled off to the side of the road. The driver stopped behind a black SUV parked on the grass. The guard known only as Robert stood up and unlocked the cuffs that kept the three prisoners in place.

"What's going on here!" a short Hispanic man angrily asked as his hands were freed.

"Ah, Mr. Fuentes, is it?" Overseer stood up and asked, rubbing where the metal cuffs had been. "My name is Mr. Wallace," he smiled and began removing the orange jumper he was wearing, taking a bag of clothing from the driver. "You may call me Overseer. Robert," he indicated to the guard, "is in my employment as are the rest of you. I will explain everything in due time. At the moment I ask that you hurry and get into the vehicle as I do not wish to be anywhere close by when the dead guard is discovered."

Immediately, the two confused prisoners followed Overseer into the black expedition.

Leonardo stared at his brother holding the loaded weapon to his face. Raising his hands up to the sides of his head, he spoke. "I surrender!" Leonardo smiled, trying to ease the tension of the situation.

As soon as he realized who it was, Raphael stood up and holstered his weapon, snapping the strap back over the handle of the gun to hold it in place. "Geeze Leo!" he turned away, pulling the mask from his face. "You could've let me know it was you," he grumbled.

"Deja vu, huh?" Leo asked as he got up and stood by his brother.

Raphael wiped at the beads of sweat as they dripped down his face, a few got away and stung his eyes. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered and leaned on the edge of the building, looking out at the setting sun.

Leonardo moved over to the edge as well. He leaned with his back to the wall and stared at his brother. He kept quiet for a few minutes more, giving his brother a chance to calm down. After enough silence, he finally spoke. "You okay?"

"Fine," Raphael muttered in response still leaning on the ledge and looking down. "I'm fine."

"I'm not buying that," Leonardo looked at him, arms folded, his shell still to the wall.

Raphael didn't move, unfazed by his brother's comment. "I don't care if you do or not," he answered. He turned his head to his brother. "Dad send you after me?"

"Mmmmm Hmmm," Leonardo answered. "He was worried." At that moment, Leonardo's cell rang out, interrupting the conversation.

Raphael watched and listened carefully as his brother talked on the phone.

"Yeah Donnie, I caught up to him." There was quiet as Leonardo listened to the next question. "No, he's fine," he smiled and glanced at Raphael. "Actually, I think we're going to make the rounds tonight."

Silence again.

"No we're going to be a few hours. Just make sure you leave us some dinner, okay? Thanks." Leo closed his shell cell and looked at his brother, "You want to go first or should I?"

Grateful that his brother wasn't going to push the issue, Raphael slid the mask back over his face. "Lead the way."

No one paid attention to a black expedition as made its way down a side street and pulled into a dilapidated looking garage. In this particular type of neighborhood, the less attention you paid to the business of others, the better off you were. A light flickered on in the overhead bay revealing dust and cobwebs. The two figures in the back looked around nervously as the large door behind them closed and they felt the floor move beneath them.

"What's going' on here!" One of them questioned.

"All will be explained momentarily," Overseer answered, looking up from a file folder. "Mr. Grohl I believe."

"How do you know my name?" a tall blonde man with glasses asked. "I've never met you before, have I?"

"No, of course not," Overseer answered. The feeling of movement stopped and the two men in the back looked around. "Gentlemen," their host said. "We have arrived. Mr. Black," he indicated to a man with straight brown hair and green eyes. He was dressed in a similar uniform to Overseer's other henchmen, Robert. "If you would show these two to their quarters. Mr. Hawkins?" he asked.

"Everything is in place sir," assured Robert from the drivers seat, unconsciously running his fingers through his wavy red hair. His green eyes seemed to shine in the dim light.

David Black went to the door leading out of the garage, "If you gentlemen will follow me, I will show you to your rooms."

Not knowing what else to do, the two strangers stuck together and followed their escort into a long hallway. It was very sterile looking. Every so often was a door with a key pad on it. Currently all the doors were shut and looked the same. Mr. Black led the two men down the hall with no words until he stopped in front of a door and opened it.

Inside was a main living area. Directly in front was a wide screen television with a large leather couch facing it. To the right was a kitchen area equipped with the basic necessities. On the left were four doors. Each door led to a separate bedroom. Each room had it's own bathroom. "You will find every thing you need in each room. There is proper clothing, toiletries, the kitchen is fully stocked, and a partial payment for your services is located in a strongbox in each room. You will find a key and lock on top of each box. You may decide where to keep the key." Mr. Black waited a moment for the information to sink in. "I suggest that you get cleaned up and dressed. You will be called for in thirty minutes," and he closed the door and left.

When the door shut the two men looked at each other with confused faces. "What's going on here?" the one known as Mr. Fuentes asked.

"I don't know," said Travis Grohl. "But I have a feeling that we better go along with everything until we get some answers."

"Agreed," Fuentes responded. "He said thirty minutes." He looked over at the doors that led to the private rooms. "I don't know about you, but I haven't had a hot shower let alone a long one in quite awhile. I plan to take advantage of our current situation."

With no other choice, the two men retreated into their separate rooms.

Several hours later………………….

"It's after eleven Raph," Leonardo said. "It's been pretty quiet the last half hour," he looked around, surveying the area. "Maybe we should pack it in and call it a night"

"Maybe," was the only response he got.

"You know," Leonardo suggested, walking over to his brother. "You could just tell me what all the yelling was about."

Raphael just stood motionless with his arms folded and looked off into the distance. He was hoping for something to happen so he wouldn't have to answer the question. Raphael scanned the horizon and waited, but nothing occurred. Donatello's words played over in his mind. Reluctantly he turned toward Leonardo but hesitated and again looked in the other direction. He found it easier to talk when it seemed like no one was there. "Donnie said I should learn to trust you guys," he admitted.

"Donnie's right," Leonardo answered. "In a way."

"'Scuse me?" Raphael turned with a confused look on his face. "You wanna' explain that one?"

Leonardo smiled and let out a small chuckle. "Donnie's smart and you can count on him to be honest about everything. He's right, you should trust us," he clarified. "But he forgets sometimes that trust comes in stages." He folded his arms, leaned up against a wall and continued talking. "How about you tell me what you're comfortable with. Just a general explanation of what happened."

Raphael nodded and drew in a breath. Again he looked the other way and began to speak. "I got mad at Mike," he finally admitted.

"Why?"

"I was in the bathroom and he walked in," he looked at Leonardo briefly. "He……..he saw my back and got this look on his face, like it scared him. I guess I just lost it." He leaned forward, his hands on the ledge, eyes looking down at the all the trash strewn about in the alleyway. "Seems like kind of a stupid thing to do now."

Leonardo continued to stand with his arms folded, "So why did he yell?"

"I started to throw a punch at his face."

"You hit him?"

"No," Raphael answered, unmoving. "I pulled it at the last second and hit the floor next to his head."

Remembering what his brother did to the dojo wall, Leonardo walked over to look at Raphael's hand. "You didn't break it again did you?"

"No," Raphael pulled his hand away. "I was still holding the towel so that took most of the impact."

Leonardo started to say something else, but was cut off by a scream for help echoing down the street. They both looked off toward the source and began jumping from one building to another. When they arrived at the cause of the yelling, they saw the silhouette of a young girl being chased by six figures. Leonardo caught the sight of a tattoo on an arm as they ran under a street light. "Dragons," he growled under his breath.

"Hey Leo," Raphael turned with a little gleam in his eye, the mask making him look wicked. "I still gotta little energy to burn, why don't you let me take care of this?"

"Ok," he answered flatly. "Give me the gun."

"What!"

"Use your sai, draw on the skills Master Splinter has taught you." Leonardo held out his hand expectantly. "You don't want me to jump down there with you, leave the gun with me."

Hearing another scream and seeing the back of the girl as she ran into the alleyway to hide, Raphael was left with no choice. "Fine," he mumbled. Reluctantly he put the gun in the backpack and thrust the sack into Leonardo's hands. Raphael pulled his sai out of a converted holster on his left leg. Jumping down he landed quietly behind the Dragons and walked up behind them.

Leonardo held tight to the backpack and stood close to the edge, he wanted to keep a watchful eye out incase his brother should need him. It was evident within the first few seconds Raphael would be fine.

The young girl ran into a tiny alcove hoping she hadn't been seen. She tried to push herself as far into the dark corner as she could. Holding her breath, she tried to remain silent, but panic was setting in.

"Hey Squintz," one of the dragons yelled. "She went in here." The gang member waved for his companions to follow him in. They moved in to the alley way in two groups of three.

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty," the one called Squintz spoke into the dark. "We ain't gonna hurt ya'………..much." The group laughed at his joke.

Frightened, the young girl tried to shove herself further into the bend in the wall and knocked over a glass bottle, revealing her position.

Smiling evilly, all six Purple Dragons turned toward the alcove and blocked her only means of escape.

"Please," the girl begged. She tossed her purse into their sight. "Take my bag. There's money and credit cards in there. Just please take it and go."

It was snatched up and a voice responded to her plea, "Oh we'll take it sweetheart," one of the thugs laughed. "As payment for services rendered."

The girl became so scared at this point that she started to cry.

The Purple Dragons were so focused on tormenting their victim that they didn't notice the large black figure fall in behind them.

Raphael landed in a crouched position and rose slowly so as not to make any noise. Quietly he crept up behind them.

Leonardo kept watch from his perch above and smiled as he observed his brother enjoy what he was doing.

Raphael stood directly behind the line of thugs. He tapped two of them on the shoulders. As they turned around, he promptly hit them hard on the head with the hilt of his sais, knocking them out. As the two bodies slumped to the ground, the four remaining members turned and saw Raphael.

"Surround him," Squintz ordered.

Raphael smirked at the sight as he turned slowly around and looked at his opponents. _Easy pickings,_ he told himself. He listened to their comments and watched as metal pipes and chains came out.

"Who is this guy?" one of them asked.

"I don't know, but he ain't one of them turtle freaks," another answered.

_Freak, huh? _Raphael took a defensive stance and growled low. He didn't have to wait long for a response. A chain came flying at him but he caught it in the prong of his right sai. He pulled on it and yanked the chain out of the guy's hand. Quickly and fluidly, he brought his left sai forward and pushed it into the stomach of a Purple Dragon in front of him. Bringing his right fist back, he hit the guy behind him with the blunt end of the handle of his sai, rendering him unconscious. A well place kick hit the one with the chain in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The last one standing realized he was outclassed, dropped his weapon, and ran. The one that had been kicked struggled but managed to get up and also run away.

"Thanks a lot!" Raphael called out after the two figures as they ran away. "I was hoping for a better work out than that!" He laughed as he watched the last one running scared down the street. Remembering the girl in the corner, he holstered his sai and walked over.

"You can come out now," he said. "They're gone. It's safe."

A voice with a spanish accent answered him. "Please," she begged. "No me lastime por favor. Please don't hurt me!"

Raphael stopped and cocked his head. The voice sounded so familiar to him. "Angie? Is that you?" he questioned the dark.

"Si," she answered. "Who's there?" She still wouldn't come out.

"It's me Angie," he paused. He swore he'd never answer to or let himself be called this again. "It's M."

Raphael heard movement as a figure crawled out and a face peered from around the corner. He wondered why she didn't move, then he realized. _Take off the mask idiot,_ he scolded himself.

Leonardo watched with curiosity wondering what his brother was doing. _What on earth! Why is he taking his mask off! She's going to scream!_ He tensed waiting for that ever familiar and ear piercing shriek they usually received. Much to Leonardo's surprise the young woman actually ran over to his brother and hugged him.

After a few seconds to catch her breath Angie took a step back and looked at him in disbelief. "We heard you were dead."

"Long story," he answered. "What are you doing out here? You're a long way from home."

"I was studying at a friend's house and got lost on my way home," she started. "I realized I forgot my cell phone at the club," she pointed off to nowhere in particular, her words picking up speed. "So I found a payphone to call my uncle but when I got out of the car, these guys started chasing me." Angie was so scared she was on the verge of hysterics. "Oh God!" she suddenly realized. She looked up at him, "They were going to …………."

Raphael caught her as her knees gave way. "Here," he took her over to a crate. "Sit down for a minute."

She did as he told her and eased down onto the makeshift seat. "Look," he explained to her. "I'm gonna' have my brother come down here. Don't freak or nothing when you see him, okay?"

A bit overwhelmed, Angie just nodded.

Raphael stepped into the light and looked up to where his brother was perched and whistled. He motioned with his arm for Leonardo to join him.

Leonardo jumped out of the shadows, back pack in hand. He walked over to where Raphael was and whispered. "Who's this? You know her?"

Opening his back pack, Raphael looked over his shoulder at her and whispered back to Leonardo. "Her name's Angie," he started. "Her uncle is an informant Jake and I know. She's a little freaked right now."

Leonardo looked over at the young Hispanic girl sitting on the crate. She was leaning over and had her head in her hands, shivering. "I'd say worse than freaked. She doesn't look good at all," he observed.

"I'm thinking a mild case of shock," Raphael pulled out his cell phone and handed the bag back to Leo. There's a first aid kit in here. See if she needs anything?" he asked. "I'm gonna call someone to come pick her up."

Leonardo agreed and walked over to Angie, all the while wondering just what kind of a life his brother had before they found him. He shook his head but smiled when he stepped in front of the young lady. "Angie?" he asked softly. "Can you look at me? I just want to make sure you're not injured."

Angie slowly looked up and stared at Leonardo as he examined the scrapes on her hands. "You're his brother?"

"Yeah," he answered, placing a band aid around her thumb. "I'm Leonardo, Raphael's older brother."

"Raphael?" she questioned. "Oh," she realized. Angie must have noticed the strange look on Leo's face. "I've only known him as M," she explained.

They both looked over as Raphael closed his phone and walked to where Angie was sitting. "Your uncle is coming Angie. He should be here soon."

"Gracias both of you. I feel un poco estupido because of all this."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Raphael knelt down in front of her. "Rescuing pretty girls is what we do," he gave her a wink.

"Oh brother," Leo rolled his eyes.

Within twenty minutes time, a black Mercedes pulled up. Leonardo stayed in the shadows after giving Angie explicit instructions not to speak of him to anyone.

Leonardo watched in fascination as Raphael helped the young woman to the car. A tall thin man, he assumed was the girls uncle, got out and immediately put his coat around her. Another figure, a large black man, got out of the drivers seat. He and Raphael knocked fists for a moment and then began speaking. Leonardo couldn't quite hear either of them but could only assume by the hand gestures his brother made, that they were discussing who attacked Angie.

Angie's uncle, after getting her into the back seat, spoke to Raphael and shook his hand. The larger of the two men simply gave Raphael a nod and they both got back in the car and drove away.

Carlos Santini kept his arm wrapped around his niece as they headed home. "You were very lucky that M happened to be close by."

Angie just sat quietly, staring straight ahead, thinking about her evening.

"Angelita?" her uncle asked, concerned with her silence. "Are you hurt? Do you need a doctor?"

"No," she whispered and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I'm fine uncle. And it's Raphael."

"Excuse me?"

"His name is Raphael."


	3. Chapter 3

Once again, Kudos and thanks go out to Reijiro for all the help with the grammar and spelling and stuff. I terrible at it and she's really good at it. Thanks Chica!

* * *

"Mikey," Donatello scolded his younger brother. "Quit dissecting your food and eat something."

Michelangelo was sitting across the table from his brother. He seemed unfazed with the concern as the fork in his right hand moved the green beans around his plate. "He hates me," he muttered, his head resting on his left hand.

"Raphael does not hate you my son," Splinter tried to reassure him. "Yes he is angry, but that does not mean he hates you."

"It sure looked like it," Michelangelo sculpted a hole in his mashed potatoes and then finally took a bite. "It was weird looking," he finally admitted.

Donatello just stared. "Excuse me?" he said, in between bites.

"Raph's back," he tried to explain. "It just looks, I don't know…… strange. It was all scarred and messed up looking."

"Michelangelo!" Splinter spoke up. "Those are precisely the reasons why your brother keeps it covered," he softened his voice a little. "It cannot be easy for him to feel like he belongs when he knows how different he is."

"Sorry Sensei," the youngest apologized.

"Next time Mikey," Donatello chimed in. "Knock."

Michelangelo smiled sheepishly. "I'll try to remember that." He got up and walked over to the kitchen cabinets.

"What are you doing now?" Donatello asked.

"I'm gonna go ahead and fix Leo and Raph a plate," he explained. "They're probably gonna be hungry when they get back."

Smiling, Donatello shook his head and looked at his father. "It doesn't take him long, does it?" he whispered.

"No my son," Splinter replied. "It is a shame that humanity is not as forgiving as your brother. The world would be a much better place if it was."

"You know Sensei," Donatello put his fork down and rubbed at his chin, thinking. "As far as our current problem with Raphael," he gave his father a little grin. "I just might have the solution."

It was several minutes after midnight when two figures stood at the entrance to an elevator that led underground. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, it didn't even exist.

Quietly Leonardo stepped in and looked at his brother, lingering in the doorway. "He doesn't hate you Raph," he tried to reassure the larger turtle.

Raphael dropped his backpack on the floor of the capsule and stepped in. "He should," he said quietly as he leaned against the wall, turning slightly away from Leonardo. The elevator made a quiet hum as it descended.

"Trust me Raph, I'm speaking from experience here," Leonardo said, putting his hand on his brother's back. Not comfortable with the closeness, Raphael stepped away. Leonardo only stopped for a moment but then realized what the problem was and continued talking like nothing had happened. "Michelangelo is more forgiving than anyone else I know," he said as the doors opened and he stepped out into the lair. Looking over his shoulder he continued talking as he headed towards the kitchen. "Just don't take advantage of it, okay?"

With a silent nod, Raphael grabbed his bag and walked out into the lair. He joined his brother in the kitchen where Leonardo was already rummaging through the refrigerator.

Triumphantly, the eldest pulled out two plates covered in foil.

"What is it?" Raphael asked.

Leonardo pulled the foil off and placed a plate in the microwave. "Meatloaf, mashed potatoes and green beans," he smiled. "My favorite."

"Works for me," Raphael got out a couple of glasses and some utensils. "Drink?"

"Milk," Leonardo answered. He placed one plate on the table and began heating up the second one.

After a good meal, Raphael headed upstairs, exhaustion finally settling in on him. As he passed by his brother's room, he noticed a faint glow leaking through a crack in the doorway. Hesitantly, he peeked in and saw his brother still up reading comic books, a half eaten sandwich sitting on the nightstand by his side. Guilt putting pressure on him, Raphael knocked lightly and waited on a response.

"Enter," Michelangelo responded, not even looking up from his reading.

Raphael eased the door open and stood in the doorway," Ummmm……..hey." Embarrassed by how he had acted earlier, his voice was just a whisper.

Michelangelo looked up from his book and gave his brother a small smile. "Hey Raph. What's up?" he asked cheerfully.

"Look Mikey," Raphael rubbed nervously at the back of his head with his left hand and took a step forward. "I just wanted to apologize…..for, you know, pushing you and all." He stopped at the end of his brother's bed and watched for a reaction.

"Don't worry about it," Michelangelo told him. "I should have knocked."

Silence hung in the air uncomfortably as Raphael tried to think of what to say next. Noticing his brother's uneasiness, Michelangelo pulled his feet up. "Take a seat," he offered.

Raphael sat on the edge, leaning his elbows on his knees. He glanced around his brother's room. Comic books were scattered about the floor with various movie posters tacked to the walls. "You know," he started. "In the two months I've been back, I don't think I've actually seen your room." He looked at Michelangelo.

"Yeah, I know," Michelangelo agreed. "It's probably because I'm always in your room," he gave a mischievous grin. "You've got all the cool toys." He laid his comic book to the side and picked up his sandwich. "Caitlin and Jake get you all that stuff?" He took another bite, waiting on is brother to answer.

"Yeah," his eyes were focused on two framed pictures hanging on the wall. He slowly got up to go look at them.

Michelangelo watched his brother and swallowed his food to continue talking. "Man, birthdays must have been a blast around your house."

"No," Raphael answered blankly. "I wasn't allowed to have birthdays." His eyes were fixated on a rubbing of a small turtle shell. There was another larger one next to it.

Not believing what he heard, Michelangelo sat up straight and looked intently at his older brother. "Not allowed to have birthdays! But …..But……How! Why!"

"I told you," he answered looking back for a second. "I just wasn't allowed to have any."

"Christmas though, you got to celebrate Christmas," he gave his brother a pleading look. "Right?"

"Nope."

"Trick or treats! You did get to go trick or treating for Halloween." Michelangelo folded his arms, certain that his brother at least got to participate in that one celebration.

"Nuh-uh."

Michelangelo sat with a blank look on his face, his last bite of sandwich dangling precariously between his fingertips. He couldn't speak. It had him dumbfounded that his brother never got to participate in what he felt were some of the most important days in a child's life.

"Hey Mike," Raphael called out, his back to his brother. When he didn't get an answer he turned and saw his brother gazing into nothingness. He walked over and waved his hands infront of Michelangelo's face. "Earth to Miiiiiiike!"

"Huh?" he looked up to his big brother staring at him with a strange expression on his face. "Why didn't you get to do the fun stuff? That's not fair," he almost whined. "I didn't think Jake and Caitlin would be that mean"

"It wasn't their decision okay? Besides you shouldn't worry about it Mike. I never did without," Raphael grinned and continued talking. "That rubbing of the shell, the small one," he indicated by jerking his head to the far wall. "You did those when we were kids, right?"

"Yeah," Michelangelo smiled as he thought back. "I think it was the Christmas after I had just turned three. Splinter found me some crayons from scavenging one night." He placed his hands behind his head and leaned back. I remember I did one for all you guys. But you and Leo had to do mine."

"Only 'cause you wouldn't quit wiggling," Raphael sat back down and leaned on the end of the bed. "You still can't sit still," he scolded. "When did you do the larger ones?"

"When Donnie turned twelve. He wanted to see how much we had grown," Michelangelo explained. He became quiet as he thought for a moment. "Aha!" his eyes lit up and he sat up straight.

Raphael stared in fascination as he watched his brother jump off the bed and began digging through items in a bottom drawer. He finally pulled a sheet out from the bottom of a stack of paper.

"Here," Michelangelo spoke triumphantly, handing the sheet to Raphael. "When we had to leave our old lair, I grabbed yours and kept it safe for you."

Raphael stared at the piece of paper in his hand. He smiled as he thought about how excited his youngest brother had been over the idea of a few broken crayons and some torn sheets of paper. "I remember that Christmas," he looked at Michelangelo. "You got the paper and crayons, Donnie got some books, Leo got a plastic lion and I got some old matchbox cars. That was the last Christmas I ever had."

Michelangelo thought back and nodded in agreement. "You disappeared the following spring." His tone changed as he remembered. "Splinter went nuts trying to find you. After about a year, I think he slowed down his searches. But," he paused. "He never gave up on the hope that we'd find you again." Michelangelo eyed him curiously. He seemed to be staring at nothing. "Raph?" he questioned. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said stretching a bit. "Just thinking is all." He gave his usual lopsided grin.

"About what?" Michelangelo drew his legs up to his chest and waited for an answer.

Raphael gave a small shake of his head and smiled. "It just seems a little weird is all," he admitted. "The last real memory I have of you is a three year old running around," he sat up. "You were this little shadow that couldn't say my name right and followed me everywhere. And now," Raphael pointed to his brother, "Now your fifteen years old," he paused. "I guess I've missed out on a lot."

"You know," Michelangelo bravely suggested pointing to the small paper in his brother's hand. "I could do another one for you. That is if you want me to."

"Another one what?" Raphael questioned, now turned so he was completely facing his brother.

"I did second rubbings for Donnie and Leo," he paused. "If you're okay with it, I could a do second one for you too." He started to talk faster so his brother didn't have a chance to argue. "I've got some large paper I could hold it up so I don't even see anything and then you could pull your shirt up. I put the paper on and you hold it. I'll never see your back just the paper." He gave his brother a pleading look, "Please?"

Raphael wanted to but didn't want to at the same time. He thought about it, weighing the options in his mind.

Leonardo finished up rinsing off the dishes; he'd offered to take care of them this time. He was on his way to his room when he heard noises coming from Michelangelo's room. Silently he walked over and peeked in, somewhat surprised at what he saw. Raphael was sitting on the end of the bed holding a large sheet of paper on his back, his shirt pulled up over his head and resting on his arms. He was sitting silently as Michelangelo rubbed a crayon over the paper, happily talking away. The scene brought a small smile to Leonardo's face. _Good for you Mikey,_ he thought to himself. _Good for you._

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Read and review people. Tell me what you think. If you want to see something happen, let me know. I'll try to work it in the story. Cheers!


	4. Chapter 4

**Many thanks to Reijiro, as always. All hail the Grammar Queen! LOL. She catches all my little flubs. Also has some great story suggestions. **

**And thanks to all who have been reading. M got three nominations in the fanfic award: Best Action/Adventure, Best Villian or Enemy, and Best AU Story. I am flattered and humbled. **

**As always, enjoy, read, and review. **

**I don't own the turtles so pardon me while I go and have a pity party. I'll be done by the time you're finished reading.**

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Wednesday, Michelangelo and Raphael were both grateful for Wednesdays. It was a day off to do what they wanted. It meant no early morning practice: that they could sleep in. After patrolling with Leonardo and talking with Michelangelo, or rather listening to Mike talk almost all night, Raphael could think of nothing better than staying in bed all morning to catch up on missed hours of slumber. Unfortunately, it didn't happen.

"Good Morning Sunshine!" a voice blurted out into the darkness that was the large turtle's room. "Lights!" the voice warned again and then a 'click' was heard as the switch was flipped to the 'on' position.

Raphael cringed as the brightness assaulted his eyes. "You're as bad as Jake, you know that don't you?" he grumbled and rolled over onto his stomach, clutching his pillow over his head.

"I'll take that as a compliment, thank-you very much," Donatello replied. "C'mon," he slapped his brother's foot as it peeked out from under the covers. "Get up; we've got work to do." He waited a moment and then tugged his brother's leg when he didn't get a response. Quickly the foot was pulled away to retreat under the covers. "Raaaaaaaph," he wined, purposely being annoying. "I'm gonna need your help to get this done. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish."

"Donnie," he grunted from under the pillow, peeking out momentarily to look at the clock. "It's only 8:00 AM, what could you possibly need this early in the morning?" Raphael made sure that his tone delivered his sense of annoyance. "I've only had a few hours sleep. Now… Go…. Away!"

It was quiet for a moment. At first Raphael thought his younger brother had gotten the hint and left, but he was wrong. He'd started to relax and drift back off to sleep when Donatello crept up to the head of the bed and yanked the pillow off of Raphael's head. Grinning wide, Donatello knelt down and faced his now sneering brother.

"This had better be important," the sleepy turtle growled, leaning on his elbows, fists clenched.

"Oh it is," he kept smiling. "Tell me Raph, how would you feel about having your own bathroom again?"

"I'm listening."

Several hours later, the two were seated in the back right corner of Raphael's room, next to a pile of bricks and cut pieces of piping, eating sandwiches. "So," Raphael asked in between bites. "How did you know this empty corridor was back here?"

"Well," Donatello began, holding his chin as he thought back. "When we first had to move out of our old lair, Master Splinter found this one. I looked up the city's old sewer plans when we started moving stuff in and found that this wall had been blocked off. At first I thought Master Splinter might want this room and I was planning to install the private bath for him." He shrugged his shoulders. "But, he wanted to stay downstairs."

"How come?" Raphael asked, swallowing another bite.

"I wasn't real sure at first, but after considering all the noise we make sometimes," he grinned sheepishly. "I think it's quieter for him being the only one downstairs."

"Makes sense," Raphael agreed, finishing his sandwich and working on his soda. "I ain't exactly a plumber," he pointed to the hole they had made. "So now that we've knocked the wall down and rigged up the piping, what's next?" He looked down the long corridor that ran the length of his room.

"Well," Donatello answered. "Since the bathroom is basically just a long hallway, I thought it would be best if we put the shower at the far end. The toilet can go on the other end opposite the shower and the sink we'll put right inside the doorway."

"What about lighting?"

"I've got that one covered. We can put up some fluorescent bulbs with a plastic casing so they're basically waterproof." Donatello grinned wide, very proud of what he had come up with.

"Where are we getting the toilet and sink from?" Raphael asked.

"Ummmm," the purple banded turtle hesitated. "We're going to have to go to the dump and pick them out." He eyed the look of disgust on his brother's face. "Really Raph, once you scrub them down with some bleach, they will be fine," he tried to reason with him.

"Nuh uh," Raphael shook his head. "There's no way I'm putting my rear end on a used toilet," he pointed a finger at his younger brother. "Why don't we just buy new stuff?"

"Raph," Donatello spoke in a matter of fact tone. "In case you haven't noticed, we live in the sewers. We aren't exactly part of the lifestyles of the rich and famous. We salvage what we can so we can save money for the stuff that we have no choice but to buy." Donatello finished and stood up to throw his soda can and paper plate away. "Besides, those things can get expensive, where would we get four or five hundred dollars from? It's not like it's just lying around."

"Well……………"

Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Splinter left the kitchen after eating their lunch. Leonardo looked up the stairs towards his brother's room. "They've been working all morning, are they going to take a break?"

Splinter walked over to living area and sat in his chair. "I would assume that Raphael would like to get this project done as soon as possible."

"Still," Michelangelo interjected. "It's pretty quiet. You have to wonder what they're doing up there." Agreeing, both Leonardo and Splinter turned their attention to Raphael's door just in time to hear Donatello scream.

"YOU HAVE FOUR MILLION DOLLARS?! WHERE DID YOU GET THAT KIND OF MONEY?!"

"Donnie," Raphael whispered loudly. "You don't have to scream." He held his hands out to try and quiet his brother, but it was too late. The rest of his family was at the door, staring.

Sitting at the kitchen table, all eyes were on Raphael. Groaning, he put his head down and covered it with his arms. Leonardo just stared at him, not sure if he should be angry at his brother for keeping such a secret or not. He also had to wonder where all the money had come from. Michelangelo and Donatello on the other hand, were busy exchanging ideas on the items that could be purchased with the new found wealth.

Splinter sat silently for a moment listening to the rambling pair. "Enough," he finally stopped them. "This is Raphael's money." Their faces fell in disappointment with that statement. "What is done with it is his choice, not ours."

"Raph?" Leonardo held his hands out. "I don't understand? Why didn't you tell us about this?"

Raphael didn't answer his brother's question. He just peeked up from his 'hiding' place and put his head back down. "I shoulda' just showed Donnie the cash and not the bank statement," he grumbled to himself.

"What cash, my son?" Splinter inquired.

Raphael turned his head and looked at his father. "The forty-eight grand I got locked away in my room." Getting a quirked eyebrow, in stunned silence, as a reply he started to regret sharing the information with everyone. Slowly and methodically, he began pounding his head onto the kitchen table.

"Stop Raphael," Splinter put his hand gently on the turtle's head to cease the movement. "That will only serve to give you a headache." Splinter turned towards his three other sons and spoke. "As I stated before, this is Raphael's money. You…" and he looked directly at Michelangelo and Donatello, "are not to ask him to start buying you things. Understood?" He folded his arms and waited for them to answer.

"Yes Master Splinter," they both reluctantly agreed.

"Raph?" Leonardo questioned. Raphael looked up across the table at him as he spoke. "Where did all this money come from?"

"Work," was all he said.

"Could you elaborate on that?" Leonardo pushed further.

"Look Leo," Raphael sat back and slouched in his chair as he tried to explain. "You don't want to know what I've done in my lifetime, okay. None of it was nice, but I got paid for it. End of story." He got up from the table, the chair dragging across the floor, and got a soda out of the refrigerator. Popping the top on it he leaned back and gulped it down.

"I'm just curious Raph," Michelangelo started in, "but what have you been doing with the money?"

"Nothing really," he shrugged his shoulders from his position at the counter. "It's been sitting in the account just collecting interest." He took another swig. "The cash I've mainly been giving to April." He pointed a finger at his brothers. "She doesn't know so DON'T tell her."

Curious, Splinter asked, "Why does she not know?"

"Well," he paused and scratched at the back of his neck. "She's always bringing food down, and I know she's done other stuff for you guys, so when I tried to give her some cash for the groceries she wouldn't take it." He sighed, aggravated with the red head. "When I go over there to do laundry, I usually try to leave some lying in the couch cushions, or even stick it in her purse, so she thinks its money she's left lying around and not me trying to pay her back." He took one last swallow and crushed the can before throwing it in the recycle bag. "You guys promise not to say anything to April?" He gave them a pleading look.

In agreement, everyone nodded yes.

"Hey Guys!" they heard a voice from the other room. "Mail call!"

"We're in the kitchen!" Donatello called out.

April and Casey walked in to see Raphael standing by the refrigerator, Splinter at the table with Donatello, Leonardo and Michelangelo seated around him. "Did we interrupt somethin' guys?" Casey asked, concerned with the strange looks on their faces.

"Nah," Michelangelo cheerfully answered. "Raph's just trying to decide if he wants to decorate his new bathroom in dusky rose or hot pink," he said, wriggling his eyeridges in a devious fashion.

Raphael jumped forward as if he was going to tackle his youngest brother. Michelangelo let out his usual girly scream and hid behind Leonardo. "Eeeeeep!" He gripped Leonardo's arms for protection.

Irritated at being used as a shield Leonardo pushed his brother's hands away and stood up to help Casey with the two large boxes he'd carried in. "What's this?" he asked taking the one off the top.

"Your usual mail delivery from Jake and Caitlin," Casey answered. "I think they're in Paris right now," he shrugged. "They sent us some painting of some cow field or pasture or whatever."

"Don't mind him," April interrupted. "He just doesn't know fine art." She had a smaller box in her hands and passed it off to Splinter. "This one is yours Master Splinter. It was shipped with our stuff," she explained.

"Thank you," he nodded and used his claw to separate the tape on the box lid. Very proudly, he pulled out a set of wind chimes made of pieces of colored glass. "They are beautiful."

Immediately Michelangelo went to work opening up the two remaining boxes on the table. Tossing out the smaller boxes inside to their appropriate owners, he tore into his. "Sweet!" he exclaimed pulling out a small easel, along with paints and brushes. In the bottom of the box were four small canvases and a book on French impressionist painters. "I've been needing some new paints." He looked around to see his three brothers opening up theirs. "What did ya' get Leo?"

"A book on French military history," he answered already looking through the pages. "It's got sections on military tactics and strategies," he explained.

"Boooooooooooooring," Michelangelo responded. "What about you Donnie?" he hoped for something more interesting.

"It's one of those sets where you build your own Eiffel tower. This could be pretty cool to try," he happily answered. "It's even got a small power supply with tiny lights to install."

"Neat," Michelangelo answered turning his attention to Raphael. "What about you."

Raphael shrugged his shoulders, "a letter." He passed it off to his youngest brother. "You can read it if you want."

The youngest of the turtles snatched the letter from his brother's hand and held it up to read it. Confused he started sounding out the first few words.

_« Share Raphael, Paris est beeee-au. Less loooomee-ares dee la ville la noot ne poo-vent pass être correctement déeee-crites ? » _he stumbled over the sentence, trying to sound it out. "What gives?" He passed the letter back to his brother. "How are you supposed to read this?"

Raphael sighed and shook his head, taking the letter back. "It's French zip-head. You say it like this: _Cher Raphael, Paris est beau. Les lumières de la ville la nuit ne peuvent pas être correctement décrites. _Basically she's saying the lights are real pretty at night." He went back to reading his letter, his family watching and waiting. "They'll be back in a month and a half," he continued reading. "Japan is the last stop and then they'll fly back from there." He paused to finish reading, "Aw Man!" he grumbled and threw the letter back on the counter and started digging through the box.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Leonardo asked with urgency. He looked expectantly at his brother, "Are they okay?"

"Yeah they're fine," Raphael grumbled, pulling out a book. "You guys get souvenirs and what do I get?" he held out the hardbound manuscript. "I get homework."

Michelangelo and Donatello erupted into laughter, both holding their sides as they found their brother's predicament funny.

"What does she want you to do?" April asked in between giggles. Casey was sitting in the chair in front of her, not even trying to hold his amusement in.

"Not much really," he glared at the three laughing hyenas at the table. "I just gotta translate the pages, every couple of chapters in a different language." He started flipping though, looking at the words on the pages. "At least it's a good story."

"What is it?" Leonardo asked, Splinter was now trying his best to silence his two youngest.

"A Tale of Two Cities," he explained. "Not a bad book really. There's some espionage, war, beheadings, and stuff. It's a good read. Besides," he pulled some smaller items out of his box. Grinning evilly, he dangled them in front of his two younger brothers. "Guess which box had the really good stuff?"

Michelangelo and Donatello's eyes went wide staring at the chocolate and candy Raphael was holding up in their eyesight. He held it closer, moving it slowly in their field of vision, teasing them. The two pairs of eyes followed the candy hypnotically as it swayed side to side, mouths opened and drooling.

"Want some?" Raphael asked sweetly.

Both turtles nodded yes and waited.

"Tough," he answered, tossing a chocolate bar to Leo. "You shouldn't have laughed at me." He opened one and started to eat it, as did Leo. "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," he exaggerated.

Michelangelo couldn't take it, and neither could Donatello. Both of them gave the most pitiful look they possibly could. Donatello let his eyes get large and pleading as he stared directly at Raphael. Michelangelo went a step further, his bottom lip began to quiver as his eyes glossed over with tears. "We're sorry," he whimpered.

Raphael looked up at the ceiling, exasperated. "Oh for cripes sake," he muttered. "Here," and he took a couple of small chocolate bars out and tossed them to the two pitiful looking creatures still sitting at the table. Resigned to the fact of having to share, he passed the box over to April and Casey who both gratefully accepted one each. Splinter took a small bite sized one and gave a simple thank you. "I'm gonna go put this stuff away," he said leaving the kitchen. "Thanks for bringing it down," he told April and Casey as he left the room.

"So what is this stuff?" Leonardo asked savoring his last few bites as he followed Raph out of the kitchen. "It's good."

Looking at the wrapper Raphael answered, reading the French words off to his brother. "Hachez dark chocolate with strawberries. I've got some with oranges and some with peanuts," he continued digging through the box as they walked up the stairs. "We've even got some cappuccino bars and truffles. Ooo, sweeet," he exclaimed at his discovery. "She remembered," he held out a box with foreign writing. "Chocolate covered shortbread bars."

"Thanks for the goods," Leo said licking the remaining chocolate off his fingers. "I don't think I've tasted anything like that before. It definitely has a richer flavor," he followed Raphael into his room.

"Now go eat a Hershey's," he smiled. "This stuff makes a regular chocolate bar taste like crap," he started to put the bits of candy into the small refrigerator he kept in his room. He pulled out a soda can and passed it to his brother and took one out for himself.

Leonardo washed his candy down with the soda and put the container in the garbage. "So Raph," he began, "What exactly did you used to do?"

* * *

Five men sat in a small meeting room at a long oval table. On one side was an older gentleman with silver grey hair. His ice blue eyes showed how evil he truly was. He was a dignified looking gentleman who spoke very well and politely. His pale skin and drawn out lips curled into a smile as he looked at the two men who were sitting, somewhat nervously in front of him. The Overseer liked it when people were frightened of him.

David Black, the driver, was standing behind and to the right of the man they called Overseer. He was a tall man. He stood at 6' 2" and had wavy brown hair, tan skin, and green eyes. Mr. Black, as he was referred to, had been in the employment of Overseer for many years. He, along with Robert Hawkins, had done numerous things for this man. The career these two men had chosen was one fueled by a love of money. They also took pleasure in seeing others in pain, especially if they had caused it.

Robert Hawkins was the one who had pretended to be the prison guard. He had red hair and was fair skinned, also with green eyes. He was only an inch taller than Mr. Black and was also very muscular. Both men were with the Special Forces until they were given a dishonorable discharge. While on a mission in Cambodia, Hawkins had shot and killed a young woman in a local village after she refused to sleep with him. Before they killed her, Black and Hawkins had taken turns holding her down while they had done what they wanted with her.

Travis Grohl stared nervously at the two men as they stood behind the older gentleman. Travis was fairly young and inexperienced compared to everyone else in the room. His sole reason for being there was his knowledge and expertise in the computer and electronics field. Overseer needed someone to set up a whole new system and break into government files. Travis was the youngest in the group. He was only 23, but by the age of twenty had been placed on the FBI's most wanted list for computer crimes. At the time of his capture, he was electronically stealing funds from big businesses and transferring the money over to animal rights groups. His own little way of trying to save the planet. He nervously adjusted his glasses, brushed his shaggy blonde hair out of the way and continued staring at the three men in front of him.

Compared to the others, Miguel Fuentes was not a tall man; he stood at only six foot and had curly black hair. He was a 43 year old convicted bank robber and was also noted as being an expert marksman. He had spent some time in the Mexican army as a sniper, but had found the pay in the private world to be much better. "Well," he spoke up. "What's the deal here?" he asked bluntly. He was not one for beating around the bush. He liked to get down to business and take care of things as soon as possible.

"Very well, Mr. Fuentes," Overseer smiled. He held his left hand up and Mr. Hawkins quickly filled it with two file folders. Overseer placed the two folders on the table and slid them over to the two men sitting opposite him. "Open them," he instructed.

Grohl and Fuentes did as they were told. Inside were pictures of a large green mutant and his 'keepers' as Overseer referred to them. "I want you, Mr. Grohl to locate these two people. I have reason to believe that they are currently out of the country. Find them," he turned to Fuentes. "Mr. Fuentes," he smiled. "You and Hawkins will place surveillance equipment around an establishment here in the city. The mutant and his keepers frequented that place and may still be in contact with its residents." Overseer slid his chair back and went to stand up. "When you find them, you will notify me immediately," he placed a wad of cash in front of Travis. "Inside your folder there is also list of electronic equipment you will have assembled within the week. Take the money and get what you need," he indicated to David Black. "Just to make sure you don't leave with my money, Mr. Black will help you with your errands." He turned to leave and stopped at the door. "I am counting on you gentlemen. I will make it worth your while should you succeed."


	5. Chapter 5

**Many thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. I love getting the alerts in my mailbox. And a big thanks goes out to Reijiro for checking behind me, cause we all know……my grammar sucks, bigtime. seriously, I'm lucky to have passed the sentence diagramming thing in English class.**

**And, on a sad note, I don't' own the turtles. Pardon me while I shed a tear.**

**As an added Author's note: Angie uses a little Spanish here and there. When she says, _mi perro,_ she's referring to Yard Dog, her puppy/bodygaurd.**

* * *

In a darkened alleyway, two large green figures blended in with the shadows. Their silhouetted bodies moving quietly and carefully, they stepped past bits of garbage and broken glass. Silence and darkness were second nature to them, so was being hunted.

"I don't like this Leo," Donatello whispered as he looked to his left. "I feel like we're being watched." Out of nervousness, he tightened his grip on a small brown box.

"So do I," Leonardo answered. Instinctively, he pushed himself further into the shadows until he had melted into the darkness, disappearing completely.

Following his brother's lead, the smartest of the turtles crept along the alleyway, keeping to the darkness. A lone fire escape was their prime target.

"I want out of this alleyway Don," Leonardo continued. "We're sitting ducks down here." Stretching his neck out, Leonardo scanned the surrounding area and double checked to see that they were indeed alone. Feeling that everything was secure, he gave a signal for Donatello to follow.

Quickly and quietly the pair made their way to the metal framework. Without hesitation, Leonardo reached for the fire escape only to be stopped just as he touched the rusted ladder. The sound of a high pitched metal 'cling' put a halt to his steps. He looked up to see a shuriken stuck, the sharpened point lodged into the old piece of metal. His eyes grew wide as a second and then a third hit the metal ladder, forcing the two turtles to back up and retrace their steps.

"They found us!" Donatello shouted.

Forcibly, Leonardo pushed his brother away from the alleyway opening as more shuriken came flying at their feet. "Move!" he ordered. Rounding a corner, the two mutants ducked out of sight back into the shadows of another alley.

Both turtles sucked in large breaths and held them, trying to slow their breathing. It was silent for what seemed like forever but in reality, only a few seconds had passed.

Swallowing to try and wet his dry throat, Donatello looked over at his older brother. "Do you think they saw where we went?" he whispered.

Before Leonardo could answer, a bright light illuminated the alleyway, revealing the position of the two giant turtles. "Don't move!" a voice ordered.

Startled and blinded from the light, Donatello and Leonardo raised their hands to shield their eyes.

"Step forward!" the voice ordered again. "Hands up!"

Complying, the two brothers stepped out from their hiding place and back into the alleyway.

"Do you surrender?" the same voice called out, still blinding them.

"No!" Leonardo yelled back.

"Okay dude," Michelangelo replied. "Your choice." He continued to block his brother's vision with the handheld spotlight and turned his head to the side. "Fire!" he ordered happily.

Before they knew what was happening, both Leonardo and Donatello felt a stinging sensation on their plastron. Looking down, they saw their chests coated in red.

Slowly, in disbelief, Leonardo lowered his hands to his chest and touched the wet and shiny red substance. "No," he whispered to himself. "It's not possible."

"What's not possible bro?" Michelangelo asked happily as he walked over to his oldest brother. "It wouldn't happen to be the fact that you actually lost a game of turtle tag would it?" Turning the light off so he no longer rendered his brothers sightless, Michelangelo gave a triumphant grin. He had finally beaten Leonardo.

"We didn't lose," Leonardo argued.

"Yeah," Donatello agreed. "We did what we set out to do." Promptly he held his hand out to reveal a small box. "We retrieved your little 'bomb' so we achieved our main goal. Being shot is just a hindrance."

"You didn't win Donnie," a deeper voice came from above.

Looking up, the three turtles saw a black clad figure crouched comfortably on the railing of the old fire escape. His hands clutched a paintball gun. Only one turtle looked happy to see him.

In an obvious attempt to show off Raphael sprang forward off the railing and did a flip in the air before he hit the ground. Landing in front of his brothers, he pulled his mask off and grinned wide. "You still lose," he eyed Leonardo.

"We got the box," Leonardo countered. He looked back down at his chest in disgust. "This is going to stain isn't it?"

"You didn't get the box and yes it will," Michelangelo giggled as he twirled the spotlight on his finger. He was enjoying his victory that was certain.

"It's right here," Donatello insisted, showing the small bit of cardboard with the letters TNT scrawled on the sides.

Raphael laughed and shook his head. His brothers just didn't want to believe they had lost. "Look at the water tower guys," he told them as he glanced at his watch.

Expectantly, the three remaining turtles turned their heads toward the south, eyeing the top of the metal structure as it rose over the rooftops.

Raphael's voice counted down in the distance. "Five…four…three…two…one…"

A series of small fireworks erupted, illuminating their faces with a soft red glow. Michelangelo's voice could be heard in the background as he stood right behind Donatello and Leonardo. Happily he hummed the Star Spangled Banner as the brightly colored explosives went off in the sky.

Angered at being fooled, Leonardo turned towards his two brothers. "You were supposed to put up only one box." He glared at Michelangelo who abruptly quit humming. "And who said you could use a gun," he pointed a finger at his taller brother. "We're ninja, we don't use guns. What if that thing had been loaded? You could have hurt one of us!"

"One," Raphael stepped in and pushed Leonardo's finger out of the way. "You never said only one box. Two," he held two fingers up in his brothers face. "You're not always going to go up against another ninja, you're going to get shot at. And three," his voice started to rise. "It's a freagin paint ball gun. I couldn't shoot a bullet out of this thing if I wanted to." Raphael began speaking through clenched teeth, a growl behind his words. "I really appreciate you thinking I'm stupid enough to point a loaded weapon at you." Disgusted and angry, Raphael headed back over to the fire escape and grabbed at the ladder, pulling it down.

"Raph wait," Michelangelo called out. "Where are you going?"

"For a run Mike," he answered as he made his way up. Promptly he tossed the paintball gun to his youngest brother. "Why don't you escort our prisoners back to the lair? I'll see you later."

Michelangelo watched, disappointed, as his brother's shadow disappeared off into the distance.

The walk home could be described two different ways. If you were Michelangelo, it was an amusing one. Proudly, he walked behind Leonardo and Donatello, acting as their armed guard. If either of the two lowered their arms or started to speak, Michelangelo would promptly fire a paintball off at their feet, reminding them they were still his captives. "Silence!" he would order.

If you were Donatello or Leonardo, the whole experience was irritating. Both turtles breathed a sigh of relief when they came to the sewer entrance of their home sweet home. Of course, embarrassment was the next feeling to rise. The two now had to explain to their father and teacher how they managed to get caught.

Leonardo shook his head as they neared the entrance. He had to admit it, Michelangelo was right. He was angry that he had lost. His long time winning streak was now over. Owning up to his mistake, Leonardo decided he needed to apologize to Raphael when he came home.

The leader steadied himself as Michelangelo opened the door for his paint covered brothers. Following the order of 'March,' Leonardo and Donatello promptly entered the door to their home. They then had to wait a few minutes for Splinter to stop laughing before they could explain.

Raphael ran as fast as he could. A long run was what he needed right now. He was building up a good sweat and burning off the excess energy and anger. Usually, when he became angry or frustrated, an hour or so of lifting weights would tire him out. Tonight, he decided he needed to stay away from home.

His blood pumped faster and his heartbeat pounded in his head. No matter how fast he ran, he couldn't escape the idea that plagued him. The thought of beating his brother to a bloody pulp kept flashing in his brain.

Raphael was so focused on his thoughts that he didn't see the loose brick on the next ledge. Running towards the edge, he jumped high. Coming down, he landed on the faulty rim. The broken brickwork caused him to stumble and lose his balance. He felt a shot of pain in his left arm as he fell and skid across the gravel of the rooftop.

Coming to a stop, he sat up and caught his breath. Gently, he touched at the area just below his left shoulder, hissing at the sharp pain. "Great," he muttered to himself. "Just friggin great." Raphael rolled his eyes and looked over. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw it wasn't as bad as he originally thought. The lightweight black jacket he wore on top of his shirt protected his skin from too much damage. Gently he removed his jacket, cursing the hole that was now in the sleeve. He pulled his first aid kit out of his back pack and then rolled the torn shirt sleeve up and out of the way. Looking at the bottle of antiseptic in his hand, he held his breath and poured the liquid over the deep scrape. Quickly he put the lid back on the small bottle and wiped the wound with his ripped coat. Raphael's last act was to grab a gauze pad and then tape it down to his arm. He could have Donatello look at it later to double check for anything under the skin. He was sure there was but he would deal with it later, he wasn't ready to go home just yet.

Exhaustion settling on top of the frustration he felt with himself and his brother, Raphael collapsed back on to the rooftop and laid there for a minute. He stared up at the stars and wondered just what Jake and Caitlin were doing at that precise moment. Part of him was happy for the couple. He was glad that the two had finally come to terms with how they felt about each other, but part of him was still mad. Mad at being left behind with a family that at times he felt were complete strangers to him.

Raphael let out a breath and flopped his arms over his face so that he could no longer see the sky. Quietly he lay there a little longer, listening to everything around him. That was when he heard it.

Building slowly and invading his sense of hearing, a loud thumping of a base and jumbled voices, all trying to be heard, made themselves known to him. Surprised he hadn't noticed it earlier; Raphael removed his hands from his face and sat up. Carefully, he crept to the side and peered over the edge of the building. Looking at the source of the noise, he smiled. He was at the club. Happily, Raphael pulled his binoculars out of his back pack and looked at the crowd starting to form.

He scanned the large group of people for a brief moment then moved the binoculars up to the second level. The club itself was only two floors of the four story building. The bottom floor was the area where most of the patrons stayed. The second floor was a restaurant, set up for those who wanted a more intimate dinner. Reservations and a large bankroll were prerequisites for that area. The third and fourth floors were Santini's office and where he, his niece, and their bodyguard lived. So far, Raphael had only seen the office. He shrugged his shoulders and dismissed the thought. Every time he and Jake were there it had been strictly business, never a social call.

He moved the binoculars around and to the top of the building. Raphael was impressed by what he saw. Santini had obviously spared no expense in turning the rooftop into a garden getaway. The edges were decoratively marked off with wrought iron fencing. Red rose bushes wound their way in and out of the iron frame work. In the far left corner was an elaborate three tiered fountain with cherubs dancing at the top. Coming out from that were various walkways adorned with a colorful array of flowers. Raphael let out a small chuckle; _This guy definitely knows how to live the good life._ He turned his attention to the center of the rooftop. A large, metal table with a glass top sat in the center. A lone female figure sat on a chair, leaning on the glass surface, obviously uninterested in her surroundings.

Raphael's mouth curled into a grin as he grabbed his things and stuffed them into his backpack. _Might as well see how she's doing,_ he thought. _At least that way I don't have to go home right away._ Stepping back for some running room, he made running leaps across the alleyways separating him from his destination.

Angie sat at the picnic table and huffed to herself. _I am not some little china doll that's going to get broken._ She covered her ears so she didn't hear the sounds of the large crowd below her. Those people, unlike her, were enjoying themselves. _I have never been so bored in my life._ Frustrated, her head flopped down onto the table. "This is so boring," she muttered to no one in particular.

"What is?"

Angie jumped at the sound of a strange voice. Startled, she looked up and saw Raphael, back pack and jacket in hand, standing a small distance away to her right.

"Hey," she grinned. Happy for the company, Angie got up and walked over to the corner where the large mutant stood. "What are you doing here?"

Raphael shrugged his shoulders and dropped his bag on the walkway. "Just thought I'd see how you were doing. Of course," he looked off to the side. "If you're busy or something, I could just go."

"No!" Angie answered. "Um…..no," she corrected herself, trying to sound a little more calm, casual. "I'm not busy."

"I can see that," Raphael observed. Intently, he stared at Angie. He always thought she was pretty. Not overly dressed or covered with makeup. Tonight, she was clothed simply in a white t-shirt and a denim skirt, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. "Why aren't you working downstairs tonight?" Casually he walked over to the picnic table and sat down, Angie joining him.

"She is supposed to be relaxing after her ordeal," another voice spoke up from behind them.

Raphael turned around to see Carlos Santini and Yard Dog coming out of the doorway behind him. Santini had a tray of snacks and three glasses in his hands; his body guard carried a small metal bucket of ice, a wine bottle was peeking out of the top.

"I did not realize we had company," Santini smiled. Setting the tray down he held his hand out to shake Raphael's. "How are you doing my friend?"

Raphael stood up, smiled, and returned the gesture, shaking the man's hand. "Just fine sir, thank you." He looked at Yard Dog who nodded and smiled at him. Raphael did the same. "I was in the area and thought I would see how Angie was doing," he explained.

"I appreciate the concern," Santini smiled. He looked at Raphael and thought for a moment. "Would you like to join us for an evening snack?" Before Raphael could answer, Santini turned to Angie. "Angelita?" he started.

"Si?"

"Would you be so kind as to run and get Raphael a beer or two?" Santini turned back to the young mutant. "I believe that is what you usually have."

"Yes sir," Raphael grinned and sat back down, as did Santini and his bodyguard.

It was quiet for a moment. Santini was waiting for his niece to leave the rooftop. When the door was shut, he started speaking. "Raphael."

The turtle looked expectantly at his host. "Yes?'

"Angelita relayed to me that you and Jacob faked your death. Is that correct?" Santini started to put a few small sandwiches and pieces of fruit on a plate. Promptly he offered the food to his guest.

"Yes sir," Raphael answered as he reached across the table and took the food. "Thank you."

"So am I correct in assuming that you longer work for the CIA?" Again Santini started fixing a plate, this time for himself. Yard Dog had already fixed his and was now quietly pouring three glasses of wine.

His mouth full of food, Raphael just nodded 'yes.'

"Very well," Santini smiled. "Since you are currently unemployed," he nodded a thank-you as he took his wine glass. "How would you like to work for me?"

Leonardo walked out of the bathroom and stared at the faint red stain that now adorned his chest. He once more shook his head in disbelief. He was so focused on the remaining paint that he didn't watch where he was going. He walked right into Donatello. "Oof!" he remarked as he looked up. "Sorry Don," Leonardo grinned. "I guess I wasn't watching where I was headed."

"It's okay Leo," Donatello smiled. He also stared at his red badge. His eyes darted back and forth between his and Leo's chest. "We got duped, you do know that don't you?"

Leonardo let out a sigh. "I know," he shook his head once more. "I don't think I'll ever underestimate those two again. They are definitely dangerous as a pair." He looked over at his brother and noticed a small object in Donatello's hands. "What have you got?"

Donatello grimaced and held his hands out to Leonardo to reveal a small toothbrush. "Mikey has decided that his entire action figure collection, including the pewter statues," he stressed, "needs to be cleaned and polished." The purple banded turtle rolled his eyes. "This whole idea of the losers doing the winners bidding is exasperating. I can't wait to see what Raph has for us to do," he added sarcastically.

Leonardo groaned at the thought. "You know," he admitted. "As rude as I was to him, he's probably going to want me to be his punching bag." The two turned and started walking toward the stairs. "At least you two got his bathroom finished so you know you won't be doing any plumbing."

"Yeah," Donatello agreed. "He gave Casey a little cash and had him go pick up the fixtures to finish it off." Donatello looked at his brother and grinned. "I did a magnificent job even if I do say so myself."

"You usually do Don," Leonardo laughed as he and his brother headed down the stairs. Sucking in a breath, the leader of the turtles tried to work up some courage. "I guess I need to go see what Michelangelo has in store for me." Curious Leonardo stopped for a moment and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Don?"

Donatello stopped and looked at his brother. "Yes?"

"Whose toothbrush do you have?"

Donatello beamed proudly at his brother. "Mike's of course."

It was several hours later when Leonardo finally finished organizing all of Michelangelo's comics, alphabetically and numerically. He looked at his fingers and groaned. Band aid's adorned three of them, paper cuts from the thin books. He and Donatello were also instructed to thoroughly clean the kitchen. Donatello then had to cook their youngest brother a frozen pizza while Leonardo served it to him. Michelangelo insisted that his brother use a French accent. He said it gave the pizza a sense of sophistication that way. Now, exhausted from the organizing, cleaning, and basic subservience, Leonardo collapsed on the couch. Out of curiosity, he glanced at the clock. _1:45?_ He thought. Concerned, he picked up his shell cell and called his missing brother to make sure he was okay.

Raphael had been sitting on the rooftop with Angie for several hours. Her uncle and his body guard had long since returned to the business below them, but not before inviting Raphael to return on Sunday evening. Carlos Santini insisted that Raphael join them for dinner, stating that he wished to properly thank the turtle for rescuing his niece from what he termed, "a most harrowing and frightening experience." Happily, the young mutant accepted the invitation. Now, it was just he and Angie, alone, still sitting at the table in the garden.

"So I'm curious," Raphael continued their conversation. "Why do you live with your uncle?" Waiting on an answer, he picked up his second beer and sipped at it.

Angie held up a finger for Raphael to wait. She took another sip of her wine and swallowed her bite of food. "I never really knew my mother," she began to explain. "According to my uncle, she disappeared for several years and then showed up on his doorstep, strung out on drugs and pregnant with me." Angie rested her chin on her hand and stared off into the distance. "I don't really know what happened to her. Uncle Carlos said she left several weeks after I was born."

"And your dad?" Raphael asked another question.

Angie just shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "I have no clue who he is." Promptly, she took another bite of food. She stared straight ahead at Raphael, waiting to see what he would say.

Raphael just sat there and looked back. "That's…." he stopped and thought about his words. "Really, that's just kind of sad." He cocked his head and gave her a questioning look. "You're not upset by that?"

Angie turned her eyes up and tapped at her chin. "You know," she tried to explain. "I don't think I ever was. My uncle and mi perro have always taken good care of me." She stretched up and looked at the people coming and going from the club entrance. "A little too good sometimes," she muttered. "Anyway," she turned her attention back to the turtle in front of her. "I never had a reason to be sad. So," she kept going, dipping a strawberry into a bowl of chocolate sauce. "What about you? Is Leonardo your only family, or are there more of you?" She tilted her head and gave a devious grin.

Raphael just stared as she licked a stray drop of sauce from her fingertip. He thought about how to answer her question but his train of thought was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. Lyrics from the song Duality interrupted their conversation. Raphael sighed and dug through his backpack, pulling out the small phone. He glared at the screen when he saw the number. "Scuse me a sec," he muttered as he stood up and walked to the edge of the rooftop.

Angie watched with curiosity as he talked gruffly on the phone. She giggled as she twirled another piece of fruit through the sauce. He definitely was not happy with whoever was on the other end. All she caught of the conversation was 'it's none of your business' and a very emphatic 'I'm fine.'

Raphael grouched as he turned around and began walking towards the table. "I gotta go," he muttered and starting tossing his things into his black bag. Zipping the contents up inside, he looked back up at Angie who had started stacking plates. "See you Sunday?"

"Sure," she answered. Angie smiled as Raphael picked up a few of the plates himself and started to help her carry them inside. "I can get those," she stated. "It sounds like you need to go."

"Yeah," he grimaced, slinging his back pack over his shoulder, looking around for his exit.

"Uh Raph?"

He turned to look at Angie who was already headed toward the entrance leading downstairs.

"We do have a back door."

Grinning sheepishly, Raphael followed Angie across the garden and held the door open for her. She promptly dropped the plates off at the kitchen and led Raphael down to the exit at the rear of the building. Cautiously, he peered out of the doorway and looked around to be sure no one was out there. He turned towards Angie, one more question to ask before he left. "Hey Angie?"

She looked at him expectantly.

"What did your uncle mean when he said, 'dress accordingly'?"

Miles away, Overseer sat at his desk, drumming his fingers together. His thin lips and drawn face stretched out into an evil smile. "Enjoy your time in the world mutant. Soon you will be home and it will be time to go to work." His evil laughter echoed out of the office and down the hall.


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry for the delay in the next chapter of this story. I appreciate all those that have been patient with me, there's been quite a bit going on at home that needed taking care of. Many thanks go out to Reijiro for all the proofreading she does. It's much appreciated. Anyway, here goes chapter six. Enjoy and as always, please review. Thanks.

Leonardo was not having a good day. Truth be told, he was having a rather lousy weekend. Thursday night, he had finally lost a game of what had been termed "Turtle Tag." Then, he managed to insult his brother. As a result, Raphael stormed off angry. That night, Leonardo waited for his brother to return home so he could apologize. It didn't happen.

Raphael was still furious with Leonardo. Not only for the accusations his brother had made, but also for interrupting his evening with his friends. As a result, when Raphael walked into the lair, he stalked right past Leonardo and straight to his room.

The oldest of the turtles trailed behind, trying to get his brother's attention. Leonardo was in mid-sentence of his apology when Raphael slammed his bedroom door in the blue banded turtles face. Dejected and feeling worse than before, Leonardo slumped off to his room to sleep off the rest of the evening.

Friday morning wasn't any better. Leonardo decided to start his day off with a little meditation. After thirty minutes time and his mind feeling less stressed, he sheathed his katanas, put on his bandanna, and went downstairs to join his family for breakfast. He was hopeful that Raphael was rested and in a better mood. He was wrong.

Leonardo walked into the kitchen and greeted his brothers and father. Donatello and Michelangelo sat side by side talking quietly and eating their cereal. Raphael sat on the opposite side, clothed in a pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt. He had nothing more than a cup of coffee. Master Splinter was in his usual spot at the head of the table. Quietly he sipped at his morning tea and glanced through the paper. Only three of the aforementioned mutants returned Leonardo's "Good Morning."

Raphael said nothing. He simply sat at the table, still and quiet. The same snarl from last night was still on his face.

Quietly Leonardo turned towards the counter to fix his morning cup of tea. Finished preparing his drink, he turned around to go and sit at the table.

As soon as he did, Raphael stood up. He did so with such a force that his chair slid back and slammed into the refrigerator.

"Raphael!" Splinter spoke out sternly.

It did nothing to get the large turtle's attention. Angrily, he swiped his coffee cup up into his hand, puddles of the brown liquid splashing out onto the table.

Donatello and Michelangelo stared at their brother as they nervously spooned sugared cereal flakes into their mouths. Leonardo, like the rest of the family, jumped when the ceramic mug and spoon clattered loudly into the sink.

"Raphael," Splinter calmly set his cup of tea down. "That is enough." The old rat stared at the largest of his sons and thought for a brief moment. Turning his head, he questioned the oldest. "Leonardo?"

"Yes Sensei?" Leonardo looked up.

"You did apologize to your brother? Did you not?" the old rat questioned.

"I tried to Master Splinter," he shrugged his shoulders. "Raphael didn't want to listen to me," he sighed. Leonardo turned once more to face his brother. "Raph," he started. "I really am sorry."

His pleas fell on deaf ears as Raphael strode out of the kitchen and into the main room. Making as much noise as possible, he plopped onto the couch and let his feet land on the coffee table with a loud THUD. Grabbing the remote, he started clicking through random channels, muttering about the stupidity of what was flashing on the screen.

Leonardo sat and stared at his family. "Sorry guys," he whispered apologetically and shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I'll try again later."

"No Leonardo," Splinter held his hand up. Quietly he stood and placed his now empty tea cup in the sink. "You offered a sincere apology. I believe you regret the harsh words you said to your brother last night. You need not state your remorse again," Splinter started to make his way out of the kitchen. "I will speak with Raphael," he finished. Silently, the fatherly rat walked out to talk to his angered son.

Michelangelo waited a moment before Splinter left, and then spoke out. "Okay," he started the conversation. "Could he be any more obnoxious?" Promptly the youngest turtle got up and rinsed out his cereal bowl. Turning around and looking back at his brother, he held his hand out to Donatello. "Finished?" Michelangelo asked.

"Yeah thanks," Donatello answered passing his bowl over to be cleaned. "I'll admit Leo, you were pretty rude last night."

Leonardo looked up in surprise.

"But," Michelangelo continued the discussion, giving his brother a reassuring pat on the arm. "You don't deserve the silent treatment. You've apologized," he kept talking. "I don't see why he can't just accept it and move on?"

Leonardo started to say something in return but his words were interrupted by a rising voice coming from the other room. All three peeked around the doorframe to see Splinter standing calmly, his hands wrapped around the top of his cane.

Raphael was up on his feet, arms outstretched, one of them pointing towards the kitchen area. "So the 'fearless leader' apologized," he hissed through his teeth. "Whoop-dee-friggin-do. Why don't we just have a parade," he added sarcastically. "Well guess what?" his volume level went up. "I don't want to listen to it!"

"Raphael," Splinter maintained his quiet nature but looked his son in the eye. "I do not deserve to be yelled at. You will speak to me in a respectful manner."

"No!"

"Then," Splinter spoke sternly. "We will discuss this later when you have calmed down. Until then," he pointed a finger at the large turtle. "You will remain in your room until you have quieted down."

Raphael stared at the one he called his father. Arms bent, he bared his teeth and growled. A slight cracking noise came from the remote as he squeezed it tight. He continued to try and stare down the old rat.

Unwavering, Splinter kept his eyes on his son and simply pointed to Raphael's bedroom door. "Now," he stated in a lowered voice, his cane tapping the ground hard.

If there was one thing Raphael did recognize, it was the fact he had pushed things to far. Angrily, he flung the remote off to the side. It shattered as it hit the wall, pieces of plastic littering the floor.

Everyone watched as Raphael stomped his way up the stairs and slammed his door. Only seconds later, loud music could be heard blaring from his room.

Quietly the three remaining turtles came out of the kitchen. Donatello and Michelangelo walked over and began picking up the pieces of the unfortunate bit of equipment.

"Man," Michelangelo let out a whistle as he eyed the scattered fragments. "Can you fix it Don?"

"It could take awhile, but I'm sure I can," he looked up, giving his brother a reassuring grin.

"That will not be necessary," Splinter interrupted their conversation. "Find all the pieces you can and place them in a container so that they do not get lost."

"But Master Splinter," Donatello spoke up. "It's no trouble really. I can….."

"No," Splinter shook his head and stopped the young turtle in mid-sentence. "Raphael broke the remote," he stated. "I expect him to fix it. Simply make sure all the parts are put away for him." The old rat took in a breath and then exhaled a long and frustrated sigh. "It has been a stressful start to the day. I am going to meditate," he started to walk towards his room. "I suggest that you all do the same."

The rest of the day went quietly. Donatello, Leonardo, and Michelangelo all did as their father suggested. Some managed to meditate a little longer than others. The remaining hours were filled with lunch, sparring, and a bit of free time with a visit to April's before they went out on their evening patrol. Raphael did as he was told and remained in his room. He passed the time lifting weights until exhaustion sank in. As a result, he crawled into bed and fell asleep.

Later that evening, three turtles and a human were roaming across the cities rooftops.

"Where to tonight Leo?" Casey called out as he ran, trying to keep up with his green friends.

"Central Park," Leonardo answered. Looking back over his shoulder he saw Casey falling behind. Smiling at his friend's effort, he called a halt so the raven haired man could catch his breath. As good a shape as Casey was in, he was no match for the mutagen enhanced speed and agility of his three friends.

"Thanks Leo," Casey muttered as he leaned over and tried to slow his breathing. After a moment, Casey cleared his throat and straightened up. "So what's the plan when we get there?" Leaning out to look over the edge of the building, he could see the tree tops of Central Park coming into view.

"Well," Leonardo started, a serious look adorned his face. "This area has seen a rise in muggings and violent crimes. He folded his arms and eyed his brothers. Turning back to Casey he continued. "The Dragons have stepped up their presence in this area."

"So we're going to stop 'em right?" Casey anxiously squeezed his baseball bat, a mischievous grin spread across his face.

"Yes," Donatello answered. "But we want you to be our decoy to draw them out." He cocked his head and eyed the human with a questioning look. "You okay with that?"

"Sure," Casey shrugged his shoulders. "Better me than waiting on some innocent person to get attacked." He stopped for a moment and scratched his head. "Just one question."

"Shoot," Michelangelo piped up.

"I don't exactly give off a helpless and defenseless vibe," he explained. "How do we get these punks to come after me?"

Michelangelo giggled, Leonardo grinned wide, and Donatello began digging through his duffel bag. Suddenly, Casey felt very nervous.

Minutes later, three turtles watched as what appeared to be an elderly man, quickly strolled across the sidewalk of Central Park. "Guys," the figure spoke into the top of his cane. Out of irritation, he scratched at his grey hair. "I feel stupid and this stupid wig itches. This is really stupid."

"Been working on widening that vocabulary huh Case?" Michelangelo chuckled at his friend.

"Casey" Leonardo answered him by speaking into his shell cell. "You're supposed to be an old man. Stop walking so fast," he instructed.

Sighing, the human complied and slowed his pace.

The three green figures continued to watch from the camouflaged darkness of the tree tops. Their mottled skin and patterned shells made them virtually invisible as they blended in with the leaves and branches. They didn't have to wait long before six eight looking figures came into view.

Casey stopped and stood still. Carefully he looked around at the gang members that were closing in on him. He could hear Michelangelo's voice coming through on the ear piece he was wearing.

"We're right above you Case," Michelangelo whispered. "Leo wants them a little closer so they can't run."

Casey didn't answer. He just stayed still and waited for the Purple Dragons to get closer. They were only a few feet away when the turtles dropped silently from the tree tops, surprising the would be attatckers.

On cue, Casey clutched his cane with both hands and began swinging it around. He took out the goon closest to him, slamming the but of the cane into the man's gut. As the thug doubled over, Casey brought the curve of the cane down on the back of the man's head. A resounding 'Crack' was heard as the Dragon member fell to the ground unconscious.

Michelangelo landed behind Casey and began jeering and teasing his opponents. He stared at the two hoodlums who balked in front of him, casually swinging his nunchukus around. "What's the matter?" he asked innocently. "Don't like green?"

"Freak!" was the only answer he got. The larger member of the Purple Dragons in front of him swung his baseball bat at Michleangelo, aiming for the turtle's head. Promplty, Michelangelo ducked. Once the man had made a full swing, his body twisted by the momentum of the stroke, the youngest of the turtles brought his foot up to the mans side and kicked him hard. The large man went down, gripping at his now broken ribs.

Casey used the curve of his cane to snare the smaller gang member facing Mikey by the back of the neck. Pulling on the stick of wood, he broght the man's head down and directly into his knee, knocking him out.

Donatello quickly disposed of another two with his bo staff. Jumping into the fray, he pushed the long stick inot one man's gut and then turned, bringing the bo staff down on the other man's head. Turning back, he swung the bo staff sideways and hit the now doubled-over man on the side of the head. The unconscious body joined the other four on the ground.

Leonardo landed to the side of Casey where the three largest gangsters were. Quickly, he swung one of his swords, putting space between the three thugs and himself. He jumped forward and landed a kick to the stomach of one, the hilts of his swords hit the remaining two on the head as he spun gracefully between them.

Leonardo landed to the side of Casey where the three largest gangsters were. Quickly, he swung one of his swords, putting space between the three thugs and himself. He jumped forward and landed a kick to the stomach of one, the hilts of his swords hit the remaining two on the head as he spun gracefully between them.

Breathing heavily, the leader looked around at the now comatose group of Dragons. "Pile them up," he said. "Leave a note for the police," he pointed as his brother's and Casey began to stack the limp bodies. "More than likely these guys all have warrants."

Splinter had been listening to the wind chimes in his room and reading through his scrolls. He smiled as he looked at the bits of colored glass dangling from the almost invisible wire, a recent gift from Jake and Caitlin. Looking across to a nearby corner, his smile grew a little larger as he eyed the quiet fan.

There was no breeze in the sewers to make the decorative glass do what they were made for. As a result, Donatello had rigged up a series of small, unobtrusive fans in each corner of the room. Each one was set to make only a slight movement of air. It was just enough to elicit a small noise from the wind chimes. The sounds of the delicate glass had a calming effect. And with the door to his room shut, it helped to drown out the loud noise from Raphael's room. Now, however, the blaring music had been silent for some time.

Deciding this would be an appropriate oppurtunity, Splinter put his reading away, picked up the container with the broken remote, and went upstairs to talk to his son. Many years of training and teachings had now become second nature for the old rat. He walked the stairs without making a single sound. Reaching his son's room, he gave a soft and silent push on the door and walked in.

Raphael lay sprawled across his bed asleep, but still in his clothes. His legs were tangled up in the red bed spread, his right arm dangled off the bed while his left was tucked under the pillow.

Gingerly, the old rat reached out a hand to grab his son's shoulder and wake him up.

In a flash, and out of instinct, Raphael rolled over. His right hand shoved his father away as he did.

Splinter stepped back and stared at Raphael.

His son was now sitting up, breathing heavy, and his eyes wide. Realizing who it was, Raphael rubbed his palms over his face and tried to calm down. "Please don't do that," he whispered through his fingers. Drawing his legs up, he rested his arms on his knees, his face tucked behind his elbows.

"I am sorry my son," Splinter stepped forward once more. "I forgot. Forgive me."

Peeking out over his arms, Raphael nodded 'yes.'

Splinter took advantage of the empty space at the end of the bed and sat down. He stared at Raphael for a moment, and then gingerly placed his hand on his son's arm, squeezing it. "How are you feeling?"

Raphael pulled his arm away and simply shrugged his shoulders.

Splinter's whiskers twitched at the lack of an answer. He changed his line of questioning to one that would require a simple yes or no. "Are you still angry at your brother?"

He nodded 'yes.'

"Why?"

Raphael didn't answer. He kept his face hidden behind his arms.

Not satisfied with the silence, Splinter reached over and rubbed his son's arm once more. "I need an answer Raphael," he spoke softly.

The large turtle's legs fell into a crossed position and his hands hit his lap. Keeping his eyes focused on his feet, his head remained looking down. "I can't help it sometimes," he finally whispered. "I don't mean too, I just…" He quit speaking and played with the edge of the bed sheet.

A furry hand covered his hand and stopped his fingers. "What can you not help?"

Raphael glanced up quickly and then back down to the bed. "I wanted to hurt him," he finally admitted. He pulled his hands away and kept talking. "That's why I went out on my own last night," he looked up. "And walked out of the kitchen." He held his hands out as he offered his explanation. "All I wanted to do was…" he stopped and swallowed as his voice cracked. Feeling guilty, he looked down again, "I just know I wouldn't have stopped."

Splinter took in a deep breath and let it out. In an attempt to comfort his son, the old rat reached out and stroked the side of Raphael's cheek. He was relieved when he wasn't pushed away. He waited silently for Raphael to start talking again.

"I know I have a short temper," Raphael admitted. "But the steroids make it worse." He finally looked his father in the eye. "Remember the first night they brought me down here?"

"When you were injured?" Splinter confirmed. "Yes. You became very angry very quickly. I believe Caitlin injected you with something to calm you down." Splinter thought back to that moment, Raphael had indeed become enraged and had started screaming. For a moment, he thought the large turtle was going to jump at Leonardo, until Caitlin stepped in and gave him a tranquilizer she calmly referred to as his 'cocktail.'

Raphael nodded, confirming his father's statement. Leaning over to his left, he leaned on his elbow and reached out with his right arm. Opening up the drawer in the bedside table, he produced a small grey plastic case and handed it over to his father. Nervously, he rubbed his hands together and looked over as Splinter opened the case.

Splinter lifted the lid on the plastic box and stared at its contents. Inside was a small needle and five little glass bottles, one half full. At first he thought Raphael might have administered the drug on his own, but upon closer inspection, he realized the liquid was still inside the syringe. "You were going to inject yourself?" He looked back up.

Raphael took in a deep breath and gave a simple nod 'yes' to his father's question. "I couldn't do it," he admitted. "I don't like needles."

"What would you like me to do with this?" Splinter held the box up.

"Give it to Donnie, please?" Raphael answered. "If I need it, he'll know how to do it."

"I will do that." Splinter set the grey box aside and passed a small blue one to the large turtle. "this is the remote you broke earlier," he looked at Raphael's questioning face. "I know that you have experience with electronics so I expect you to fix it."

Agreeing, Raphael set the container aside and started talking again. "I'll do it when I go to April's tomorrow." He shrugged his shoulder's at his father and continued his explanation. "I have some laundry to take care of."

Splinter nodded and stood up. As he did, Raphael stretched back out and lay down. "What of your argument with Leonardo?"

Raphael sighed; he wasn't going to get away from this one. Rolling over onto his stomach, he gripped his pillow and laid his head down. "I just need some space," he tried to explain. "Every time he tries to come up to me, and talk to me, I get…" he stopped and tried to think of a way to explain things.

"You get frustrated and angry?" Splinter questioned.

Raphael nodded 'yes,' shut his eyes and slowly exhaled. He didn't flinch this time when he felt his father's hand on his face. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," he whispered, half awake.

"Apology accepted my son," Splinter whispered. Quietly he stepped away and towards the door, his furry paws gripping the plastic box. . An hour later, his three sons returned, exhausted and happily talking about the events of the evening. "You fared well?" Splinter observed.

"Yes Master Splinter," Leonardo bowed, Michelangelo and Donatello following suite. "We stopped several muggings and most of the criminals we defeated went to jail."

"That is good to know Leonardo," Splinter replied as he bowed back. He smiled and nodded, "I am also glad to see that you have all returned safely." He turned and pointed to the kitchen. "Your tea is waiting, you should drink some before your retire."

Michelangelo groaned. He didn't like drinking the tea. To him it was foul and Master Splinter refused to let him put any sugar in it to sweeten it. It was meant to help the mutant turtles calm down and relax so that they might sleep better after a long night of patrolling. Reluctantly, he and Donatello followed Leonardo into the kitchen.

"Donatello," Splinter interrupted the trio's walk. "I would like to speak with you privately."

Nodding in reply, Donatello followed his father into the make-shift infirmary, his eyes on the small grey box clutched tightly in the rat's hands.


	7. Chapter 7

**Just wanted to send out a major thanks to Reijiro for keeping and eye on this fic for and for all her help. It is much appreciated. Thanks Chica. Also, Self Imposed Protection has been updated and completed if anyone was keeping up with that story. As always, reviews are much appreciated.**

**Oh, and I don't own the turtles but if I did, I would share with the rest of ya!**

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Saturday morning rolled around, activity began to pick up around the lair. After an evening of patrolling and a good night sleep, Michelangelo was happily sitting in front of the monitors, watching the Justice Force, and eating a large stack of pancakes. Syrup dripped haphazardly off the edges of his plate as he shoveled large forkfuls of the fried dough into his mouth.

Sitting at the table in the kitchen, Leonardo shook his head at the scene in the other room. "Do you think Mikey will ever grow up?" he gave a mischievous grin along with his rhetorical question. Not waiting on an answer, he placed a bite of his pancakes in his mouth, savoring the taste of the butter and honey.

"Honestly Leo," Donatello responded with a mouthful of food. "As long as he keeps cooking breakfast like this on Saturdays, he can watch whatever he wants." He looked long and hard at his plate. His breakfast treat was laced with cinnamon and pecans, covered in butter. Donatello never bothered with syrup, as he said it interfered with the taste of the crushed nuts.

"Your brother," Splinter agreed, "has become an accomplished cook." He stood up and placed his now empty plate in the sink. "I also find myself looking forward to a breakfast of vanilla flavored pancakes." Refilling his tea cup, the ninja master continued talking. "I do, however, fear the sugar rush that will result from Michelangelo's concoction of chocolate chip and marshmallow pancakes." He turned as he heard the youngest cheering on his cartoon hero's and saw him dancing on the not so sturdy coffee table. "I think I will start my day with a large dose of meditation." Splinter winced as Michelangelo moved from the table top to jumping on the couch, cheering as the Silver Sentry once again defeated the villains.

"Sensei?" Leonardo gave a desperate look to his father. "Do you mind if I join you?" He cringed when his youngest brother back flipped off the couch, syrup spilling on the floor. "I think I may need it." Splinter nodded in agreement with Leonardo's observation. "Don?" the leader continued. "You want to join us?"

"Nope," the smartest of the turtles grinned happily. "Not when there's a lock on my lab door."

"Okay," Leonardo chuckled. "Leave the dishes in the sink and I'll take care of them after meditating."

Donatello just nodded, returning his attention to the last few bites of his morning treat.

Upstairs, Raphael stirred in bed. He groaned as the noise from downstairs filtered through his door and into his ears. He found himself being awakened like this every Saturday and Raphael was not a morning turtle. Grimacing at the 'whoops' and 'oh yeahs' from downstairs, the large turtle pushed himself out of bed, resigning himself to the fact that sleeping was over and done with for the moment.

As he sat up on the edge of the bed, he stared down at the little orange bottle on the nightstand. "Stupid pills," he muttered to himself. Twisting the cap off, he placed one of the small circles in his hand and closed the bottle back up. Before Caitlin and Jake left for their overseas trip, she had given him several bottles of medication to take. Each one a smaller dose of the steroids his body had been dependent on for so long. They were meant to ease his body off of the need for the drug, instead of him trying to go cold turkey and suffer through the withdrawals.

Making his way into his bathroom, Raphael placed the tablet on his tongue and cupped his hands under the now running water of the sink. Bringing his mouth down to meet his palms, he sipped at them and swallowed his medication. Raphael let out a breath as he turned back around and his eyes scanned the piles of clothing building up around his room. Some were on his bed, others were in the corner to the right of the door, the rest were just scattered about the floor and desk. He had a long day of laundry ahead of him.

Walking back over to the dresser, he pulled out a clean pair of pants and a red t-shirt. Laying them out on an empty space of his bed, he stripped down and stepped back into the bathroom to take a shower.

Downstairs, Donatello was reading through Caitlin's notes again. Not because of his brother, but because he found it interesting. The purple banded turtle was always strong in the science field but up until now, his access to medical resources had been very limited. Whenever there was a health issue to be dealt with, he often had to rely on piecing together information from books and charts about human and turtle physiology. Sometimes, his decisions were nothing more than an educated guess. Now, however, he was able to view DNA charts, growth of bone structure, detailed views of the nervous system and other items. X-rays, MRI's, CAT scans, etc… were all things he just didn't normally have access too. So now, with this information in front of him, he was able to get a better understanding of their physical makeup.

Stretching to take a brief break from his studies, Donatello caught a blur of red from the corner of his eye. Quickly he got up and peeked out the doorway of the lab in time to see Raphael heading for the exit to the sewers. "Hey Raph!" he whispered as loudly as possible trying to get his brother's attention.

Shoulders slumped; Raphael turned around and looked at his brainy brother. He really didn't want to be bothered. In all honesty, he was looking forward to the walk to April's alone. "What?" he sighed. He had successfully made his way past his little brother without being noticed. He was hoping to keep it that way.

Not wanting to make a big scene, Donatello merely waved his hand, indicating for his brother to join him in the lab. Standing at the doorway, Donatello stepped out of the way and shut the door behind Raphael, securing the deadbolt.

"What'd you do that for?" Raphael pointed at the little silver knob. He didn't like being locked up.

"It's not to keep you in Raph," Donatello reassured his brother. "It's to keep others out." Donatello stared a Raphael for a brief moment and a determined look set itself across his face. He was done letting his brother put this off any longer. "Okay," he pointed to the infirmary bed. "You're way past due having it looked at."

"No," Raphael stepped towards the door but his brother didn't budge.

"Sorry bro'," Donatello answered. "But you're not getting out of it this time." He stepped back and was now pushing himself on the door as his larger brother came forward, a growl exiting his lips. "You know just as well as I do that you're overdue for a check. I've seen you scratching at it and I know what that means."

Raphael let out a sigh and looked down at the floor, his right hand over his face. He was mad at Leonardo, not Donatello; he shouldn't be taking things out on his younger brother. "Fine," he conceded through gritted teeth.

"Good," Donatello started to relax. "Just take your shirt off and….."

"Yeah Genius," the large turtle snapped. "I know," he interrupted as he pulled off his red t. "Just lay down and this won't hurt a bit," Raphael flung his shirt angrily at a nearby chair. "Yeah right," he muttered. Plopping himself on the bed he waited for Donatello to start poking and prodding. And he kept waiting. Wondering what was taking so long, he looked over. "What are you doing?"

"Huh?" Donatello answered, not even taking his eyes off of the photographs he was looking through. "Just checking out these photographs," he muttered as he walked over. "You've got some serious scars," Donatello observed.

"Thanks for the reminder," Raphael grumbled and he started to get up.

"Sorry Raph," Donatello tried to apologize. "I didn't mean it like that," the brainy turtle smiled as he finally stood next to his brother. "It's just still a bit unbelievable that you could even survive without a shell." He positioned an overhead light above Raphael's back and turned off the lights to the room so he could get a better look.

Ready to get this over with, Raphael just laid back down, his arms folded under his head. "I've got a shell," he answered. "Just not like yours is all." He tried to focus on the heat the lamp was putting off and not his brother's fingers as they pushed and pulled on the broken pieces of his back.

"True," Donatello agreed. "Caitlin's notes say you went a month with your damaged shell before Jake found you." He got out a pair of calipers and started measuring the spots on his brother's back. "You remember any of that?"

"Nope," Raphael lied. He did remember bits and pieces but nothing specific. The odd face, being hit, and fed rotten food blurred in with his memories of the beatings he received from Overseer. He still got the occasional nightmare from it but so far, had managed to hide that from his family.

"This hurt?" Donatello asked as a muscle on Raphael's back twitched.

"Nope."

Donatello tried to ask a few more questions of his brother, but after receiving nothing more than 'nope' and 'yep' for answers, he decided Raphael wasn't in a talking mood and quit. Instead he focused on his inspection of the shell pieces. Thirty minutes later, he finished up and gave his brother a simple pat on the back. "Okay," he said as he turned the room light back on. "You're done." Walking over to his desk, he fished out a pen from under a stack of papers and wrote down a few notes inside his brother's medical file.

Curious, Raphael sat up and gave his brother an expectant look. "Well?"

"Well what?" Donatello looked over.

"Aren't you going to tell me you have to stick me with a bunch of needles now?"

"Oh…no," he put his attention back to his writing.

"But my back has been itching…"

"Yeah," Donatello nodded. "About that," he walked back over as his brother was putting his shirt back on. "Quit using that wild yam muscle rub. You've developed an allergic reaction to it." He stopped for a moment and waited for Raphael's head to poke through the opening in the shirt. "I can give you something for it if you want."

"No," Raphael shook his head and began walking towards the door but stopped as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Donatello giving him a sympathetic look.

"Splinter gave me the box of tranquilizers. I showed him how much and where to inject them if for some reason I'm not here."

Raphael just nodded.

"Look Raph," Donatello gave his brother a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. "Everything looks fine," he smiled. "But if you need to talk or anything…"

"Thanks," Raphael answered quietly and turned to look out the door.

"He's meditating with Splinter," Donatello said quietly. "Mikey saved some of the pancake batter. He said he'd make you some breakfast when you came down."

Raphael shook his head 'no.' "I'm not hungry, but tell him thanks for me," he walked over and picked up his large duffel bag and left. Taking the long way through the sewers, he finally made it to April's. Walking into the basement, he promptly dumped his bag out and started sorting through his things, being sure to set the little blue container off to the side. A load finally in the washing machine, the large turtle gave a quick glance to the door at the top of the basement stairs. He could hear a few noises as April and Casey moved about. Feeling it was safe enough; he opened up the dryer door and peered in. April's laundry was still in there. As fast as he could, he pulled a few bills out of his pocket and tossed them into the dryer and shut the door. The door at the top of the steps opened as he did so.

"Hey Raph," April called out cheerfully as she carried an empty basket down the steps; her yellow terry cloth bath robe flopped about as she walked. "How's your morning been?" A silent shrug of the shoulders was all she got in response. Shaking her head, the red head let out a giggle. "Mikey's cartoons woke you up again, didn't they?"

"Yes," he grumbled.

"That happened with me too, when I stayed there for awhile," she gave an understanding smile. "There's coffee upstairs if you want it," she suggested and Raphael promptly headed for the stairs. Dropping the basket beneath the door to the dryer, April opened the appliance up and quickly started pulling her dried clothing out. Counting the money that fell out with her clothing, she spared a quick glance behind her to the turtle climbing the stairs and smiled. Promptly, she put the green bills in the pocket of her robe and made a mental note to hide it with the rest of the cash he kept leaving behind.

Exiting the basement April walked around the corner to the kitchen. Raphael was sitting on a barstool sipping on coffee while Casey happily made a mess of her kitchen. She found it a bit odd that the large turtle was looking through one of the many catalogues she got in the mail. With a shake of her head in disbelief and a 'tsk' at Casey's sheepish grin and his mess, she continued her walk into the bedroom to set down the basket of dried clothes. A few minutes later, she emerged dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a white tank top, ready for breakfast. "Casey," she gave a suspicious look to the man behind the counter. Pots were piled up in the sink, and various food stuffs were scattered about the counter top. "What did you do?"

"Aw, c'mon babe," Casey tried to reason with her, but the 'babe' comment didn't help him any. "It's just a bit of breakfast for ya' before I head out." Promptly and with a large grin on his face, he placed a pile of something uncertain on the table for April. "You want some Raphie boy?" he asked the large turtle still sitting at the counter top. He received a bit of a snarl at the comment. "Whoa," Casey said putting up his hands. "You wanna switch to decaf or sumthin?"

"Yeah," the large turtle muttered. "Or something." Raphael's beak crinkled up at the multicolored serving sitting on the plate. "What _is_ that?" he pointed.

"Oh…..uh…. lemme think here," Casey turned back to the kitchen to review the ingredients. "It's got some diced potatoes, red, yellow, and green peppers, onions. No, wait," he corrected himself. "I used green olives since I couldn't find any green peppers. There's also a bit of cheese and salsa on top with some sour cream."

"And these?" April held up a forkful of what she thought might have been cereal.

"Well, the recipe calls for croutons, ya' know, for texture. But," he shrugged his shoulders. "You didn't have any so I had to use some rice krispies." Leaning down he gave April a quick kiss on the cheek before he made his way out the door. "I gotta go see Angel's grandma," he started for the door. "Her dryer is on the fritz again and so is the AC so I won't be back until dinner. Enjoy," he called out as he waved goodbye and headed out the front door.

April just sat silently and waited until she heard her boyfriend's motorcycle start up and pull away. As soon as she did, the breakfast made its way into the garbage bin.

"That has to be the most disgusting thing I've ever seen," Raphael observed as he tied up the garbage bag for her. "And smelled," he added. "Why do you let him keep doing this to your kitchen?"

"I guess," April shrugged her shoulders. "Because he only does it every so often and he means well," she giggled as she rinsed off the pots and pans and put them in the dishwasher. "I just have to make sure I have plenty of antacids on hand for when I do have to eat his cooking."

"No kidding," Raphael agreed. "You want me to go put this in the can outback?"

"No," she shut the dishwasher and shook her head. "It can keep for now," April continued as she opened the refrigerator and removed a bag of bagels and some fruit. She held it up to the large turtle's line of sight and he nodded 'yes.' "Have a seat," she pointed to a chair at the round table. "Explain to me why you're looking in a clothing catalogue."

"Hey April," Raphael asked as he sat down, cup of coffee and mail order magazine in hand.

"What?"

Raphael didn't answer right away, he just flipped through the book and scratched nervously at the back of his neck.

"What?" April asked again, this time right behind him. She set a toasted bagel in front of him along with a plate of cream cheese and butter.

"Um," he looked about and quickly spread butter on the bread. "What does 'dressy but casual' mean?"

(at the lair)  
An hour after meditating, Splinter and Leonardo walked out from the ninja master's private quarters. The old rat looked about and observed the mess in front of him. Michelangelo's plate was on the coffee table, a puddle of syrup next to it, and the fork on the floor. There was also a half finished glass of milk next to it. The blanket that usually rested on the top of the couch was now draped halfway on the floor, halfway on the furniture. The cushions, for some reason, were ten feet away, scattered about the bridge.

"What on earth happened?" Leonardo asked in disbelief. "It looks like World War III was fought in here."

"Mikey," Donatello's voice came from the kitchen. He had decided to go ahead and start on the breakfast dishes. "…got aggravated when he had to keep getting up and down to change the channels." He explained, walking out as he dried his hands on a dishtowel. "He had a little too much energy and couldn't sit still. Its good thing you two weren't here to witness the bouncing around!"

Splinter gave Donatello a small pat on the back and chuckled as he walked in to fix a cup of tea. "And some people say meditation doesn't work."

Leonardo and Donatello both let out a laugh at their father's joke. "So where is Captain Hyper?" the leader asked.

"I sent him into the sewers," Donatello jerked a thumb over his shoulder to the door. "I told him I desperately need a non-ratcheting 3/8ths socket screw if I was going to fix his hover board."

"Does he even know what it looks like?" Leonardo asked, trying to picture the strange sounding tool himself.

"Considering it doesn't even exist," the purple banded turtle grinned wide. "I highly doubt it." Proud of himself, Donatello stood there arms folded in a triumphant manner while he waited for Leonardo to stop laughing. "I'll reconnect the loose wire on his hover board before he gets back," he conceded. "I was afraid that if he didn't have something to occupy his time with, he was going to break even more furniture with the ups and downs he was doing." He kept talking as he and Leonardo walked over to the bridge and picked up the waylaid couch cushions. "Seriously, he was literally bouncing off the walls!"

"I believe it," Leonardo answered and took the second cushion from his brother. Placing them back in their proper spot he picked up the stray dishes still lying about. "I'll take care of these," he lifted his foot up as he stepped in something sticky. He gave a strange look to Donatello.

"I'll wipe up the syrup Leo," Donatello giggled. He continued to watch, amused, as his older brother half walked and half tiptoed into the kitchen trying not to track the sticky mess across the floor.

Sometime later, the main living area had been put back in its proper order and the turtle's leader was reading through the newspaper. "Not much in the paper," he muttered to no one in particular.

"Well," Donatello started. "With the Shredder gone The Foot is without a leader really." He mulled over a circuitry box in front of him. "That could explain the lull."

"It does make me wonder," Leonardo looked over. "You would think Karai or Hun would step right in and take over." He scratched at his chin as he thought. "They may have already and are waiting, hoping we'll start to relax a bit. It would really be nice if we could just see what was going on around the city all at the same time." He perked up at the idea. "Don? Do you think you could do that?"

"Hmmm?" the purple banded turtle looked back up. "Do what?"

"Well, what if we could put up some cameras around the city, small ones so they wouldn't be noticed. Just around areas that we know the Dragons and Foot frequent." Leonardo looked over at his brother, hopeful.

"Well," Donatello tapped at his chin as he thought. "I suppose it would work if the remote signals were strong enough. I know Raph still has some surveillance equipment boxed up in the warehouse. He could help me rig some stuff up." Smiling, Donatello looked over a Leonardo. "Yeah, it could work. Go ahead and map out the areas you want and I'll figure out how strong a signal we'll need." Making a mental list, the smartest of the turtles got up and walked over to his lab still talking. "I'll need a scrambler so no one else picks up on the signal, figure out a common frequency for all of them…" his voice trailed off as it walked away.

At the mention of his brother's name, Leonardo pulled out his shell cell and eyed a particular phone number. Splinter had advised that he just give Raphael some space and wait to talk to him. Looking at his phone, his finger on the call button, he hesitated. Sighing, he put his phone back in his belt and went to the dojo to go practice.

Raphael had been at April's for several hours now. He was just waiting on his last bit of laundry to finish drying before he headed home. April answered his question about what he was supposed to wear for dinner at Angie's and even offered to pick up some new clothes for him. He was currently finishing up fixing the broken remote Splinter sent him over with. He managed to find an old remote in April's junk shop with a similar casing to what they used at the lair. Right now, the two were discussing his plan for Sunday.

"I'll get you a few different outfits to wear," she offered. "Just come by early enough to try them on. Whatever you don't want," she picked up the store catalogue and dog eared the pages detailing what he had picked out. "I can take those back." Placing the book by her bag on the kitchen counter she kept talking. "I'll drop you off outside Angie's building if you want. That way you don't have to walk through the sewers in your new clothes."

"Thanks April," Raphael let out a small smile. "I better give you some money for the clothes." He reached into his wallet to pull out the necessary cash, but she stopped him.

"Don't worry about it," she patted him on the shoulder as she walked past and headed down stairs to her store. Raphael followed behind her. "With all the money you've been leaving in the dryer and the couch cushions, I'm sure there's enough stashed away."

Raphael stopped midway down the steps, stunned. "You knew?"

"Hello," April walked into the store and around the counter, pulling a dust sheet off the glass top. "Investigative journalist, remember," she cocked an eyebrow at him. "It didn't take me long to figure out that the extra cash only showed up on days that you were here doing you laundry." She passed off an end of the large cloth to Raphael and started folding it. "If it makes you feel any better, I know you won't take it back. So I've set it aside in case you guys have a major emergency."

"Fine," Raphael conceded. "But that was supposed to be for the food and stuff you keep buying for us."

"Forget it," she put the folded sheet away behind the counter. "You guys are family, you don't owe me anything." April stared at Raphael and studied his reaction to her statement. "You miss them a lot don't you?"

Raphael just nodded as he knelt down to take a close look at a stack of old books. He turned when he heard April walk up behind him and saw a sympathetic smile.

"They'll be back soon," she reassured him. "Only a month and a half to go right?" April received another nod of 'yes.' "Look," she started. "You've made it two months: one more isn't going to be so bad is it?"

"No," he agreed. "I guess not."

"Good," she looked over at him and patted his chin. "Now come help me move these boxes before you go."

Two hours later, Raphael arrived home. He found it odd that things were so still. Walking into the lair, he saw the light on in Donatello's lab. "Hey Donnie," he poked his head around the corner. "What's going on? Why's it so quiet around here?"

"Mike's sugar rush from this morning finally wore off and he's been passed-out for the past hour."

"What goes up must come down, huh?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"Here," Raphael lifted his large laundry bag off his shoulder. Pulling out the blue container, he tossed it over to Donatello. "April sent over some computer chips and other odd parts she thought you could use."

"Cool," the brainy turtle started rifling through the little box, oohing and ahhing over the bits and pieces. "Oh, by the way," Donatello started. "If it's okay with you, the two of us are going to be mounting some surveillance cameras around the city tonight while Leo and Mike go patrolling."

"Works for me," Raphael said, a little relieved at the suggestion. "I've got some equipment in the boxes upstairs we can use."

"Did you get the TV remote fixed?" a voice asked from behind them.

At the sound of Leonardo's voice, Raphael's fists curled up into tight balls and his teeth clenched. "Yes," he hissed not even looking around. Promptly he pulled the small piece of hardware out of the bag and turned to face his brother. "Here," he slammed it into Leonardo's plastron. "Take the damn thing. I'm sick of looking at it." And with that, he stalked off to the dojo to burn off a little anger.

Later, close to dinner time, Raphael was sitting on his bed, trying to finish up the last chapter of what Caitlin wanted him to translate. His mind not on his task, the work was going slow to say the least. The loud music coming over his head phones was also another distraction. Light creeping in from a crack in the door caused him to look up. Seeing Michelangelo's face peeking around his door frame, he turned his ipod and off gave his younger brother an expecting glare. "What? I'm busy."

"Oh, well…"Michelangelo rolled his eyes as he gave his brother an impish grin. "If you're busy, then I guess you don't want to talk to Caitlin," he held up the phone and teased his brother with it.

Jumping up, Raphael chased his brother out of his room and about the lair, as Michelangelo tried to run and carry on a phone conversation at the same time. He ran down the stairs as Raphael jumped from the top level to cut him off. Not being able to slow down his speed, the quickest of the turtles made use of his shell and slid on it right through Raphael's legs, speaking a 'No not much happening around here,' as he did so.

"MIKE!!!" Raphael bellowed as he turned and chased his brother over the furniture. "Give me the phone you little..."

"Michelangelo!" Splinter's stern voice called a halt to the youngest's antics. Both turtle's stopped and stared at their father. "Unless you would like to pay for the time you are wasting on Caitlin's overseas long-distance call, I expect you to hand the phone over to your brother, now."

Stretching his left arm out as far as he could, Michelangelo timidly passed the phone over, careful not too get to close to his older and much larger brother. Quickly, Raphael snatched the phone and walked off to sit on the couch.

"Caitlin," he started to smile. "Where are you guys?" A bit of silence and a roll of the eyes preceded his next statement. "Ja erinnere mich ich an mein Deutsches," he told her. "Kein alles ist fein."

Michelangelo cocked his head at the strange words that came from his brother's mouth. He leaned on the couch, chin resting on his elbows as he tried to memorize the words to look up later. His intent staring caught Raphael's attention. "Do you mind?" Raphael looked over. "This is a private conversation."

"Sorry," Michelangelo muttered and walked away, flopping down at the kitchen table.

"Is something wrong Michelangelo?" Splinter looked over from his tea.

Michelangelo sat at the table, his head resting on his right arm as his left hand made little circles on the flat surface. He looked over at his father, eyes wide. "I just thought it would be cool, you know, to learn another language like Raph." He sat up, his chin supported by his hands. "I thought maybe if I could remember what he was saying that I could look the words up later and find out what they meant."

Splinter smiled and gave Michelangelo a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "It is a worthy undertaking to want to expand your knowledge Michelangelo," he said as he put his cup in the sink. "But I would suggest you ask your brother for help rather than try to translate a conversation that he wishes to keep private."

Michelangelo perked up at the idea. "You think maybe he would help me?"

"I do not see any reason he would not," the old rat spoke out loud as he stroked at the fur on his chin. "What language would you like to learn? There are many to choose from."

"You know," Michelangelo tapped at his chin. "I hadn't really thought about that."

"Then that would be the first thing for you to decide," Splinter nodded. "I suggest you choose one from a country that interests you, that would make it more worthwhile."

Feeling a little more confident and excited with the prospect of having his brother help him with something, Michelangelo happily walked out of the kitchen to talk to Raphael, Splinter behind him. Raphael's voice had become quieter from his earlier words, the language changing from German to English.

"No," he said softly as his body slumped down on the couch. "Don't…….don't worry about it. It was nothing, I'll talk to you guys later," he hung up the phone and got up, walking toward the elevator.

"Hey Raph," Michelangelo started to call out. Splinter's hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked over to see his father shaking his head 'no.'

"I think I should speak with him," Splinter explained. "He seems as if something is wrong."

Walking over, Splinter moved across the room to the elevator and waited for it to come back down. Stepping in, he made a quick trip up to the warehouse and looked around. At first he didn't see Raphael, simply the Battle Shell, boxes stacked up off to the side, and a tool box. A slight scuffling noise caught his attention. His ears turning towards the sound, he carefully made his way around the vehicle. Raphael was leaning up against the front passenger tire, his head hung down.

"Go away," he muttered. "Please," and he tried to hide his face.

"Raphael," Splinter spoke softly and took a step closer. The turtle simply turned away, trying not to let his father see him wiping his eyes.

"What?"

Splinter took a few more steps and knelt down behind the large turtle. Gently, he placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "Look at me," he whispered. A slight tug from the furry paw on Raphael's shoulder made him turn around.

His face had been dried off; remnants of the few offending tears were now evident on his shirt sleeve. His eyes were still glossed over and he swallowed hard, trying not to cry as he spoke. "Why don't they want me?" Raphael asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Who are you talking about?" Splinter asked, getting comfortable on the floor.

"Jake and Caitlin," Raphael let out a sigh. "I…" he looked up. Feeling guilty he turned his attention back to the floor. "I asked them if I could stay with them when they got back to the States."

"And what did they say?"

"Caitlin didn't say anything," Raphael answered. "She just started talking like I had never asked the question."

"Perhaps," Splinter tried to comfort him by placing a hand on Raphael's shoulder. "Perhaps she did not hear you."

Raphael just shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe..."

"Raphael?" Splinter turned his son's chin so he was looking the turtle in the eye. "Why do you wish to stay with them? Are you not happy here?"

Raphael swallowed hard and wrung his hands. His answer came as a whisper. "I'm not so sure I fit in here."

"How?"

"I don't know," Raphael shrugged his shoulders. Quietly, he got up and walked over to the boxes, looking for the specific items he and Donatello would need later. Carefully he set the top box down and began looking through the one that was underneath the first. Busily, he pulled out various wires and what looked like some small boxes.

Splinter sighed and shook his head. Getting Raphael to talk to him was not the easiest of tasks but he understood why. Jake had explained to him some of what it was like living at the station. Their every word was monitored and Raphael could be punished for the smallest remark or statement. Over time, the large turtle learned to keep things to himself or risk another beating. Splinter walked over to Raphael and placed a hand on the turtles back. Raphael turned around at the touch.

"Raphael," Splinter started. "You are my son and I love you, but I cannot make you choose to stay. I do, however, wish that you would give things some time to work themselves out. Change is never easy to deal with and it does take time."

"Yes sir," Raphael muttered, finished sorting through the various electronics.

"Perhaps we can talk more about this tomorrow?" Splinter suggested. He watched as Raphael set down the box he was looking through on the floor. He then set the other box back on top of the stack. "Raphael?"

"I…..uh…" he scratched nervously at the back of his neck as he turned around. "I kind of have plans for tomorrow." He stared at the floor, his toes wiggling at the end of his flip flops.

"Hmmmm," Splinter stroked at the fir on his chin. He cocked his head with a smile and leaned forward on his cane. "And what would they be?"

The large turtle shrugged his shoulders and bent down to pick up the cardboard container. "Dinner," he answered. "With some friends."

"Friends?" Splinter's eyebrows raised in curiosity at the first mention of someone other than Jacob or Caitlin.

"A guy I know," Raphael started walking back toward the elevator, grateful for the change in conversation. "He and his niece invited me over tomorrow." He and splinter walked into the elevator and made their descent.

"Ah," Splinter realized. "The young lady you saved earlier this week," he smiled at Raphael. "Leonardo told me about her." Nodding he gave Raphael a pat on the arm. "I hope you have a very nice time my son," he added as they walked out and back to the underground level.


	8. Chapter 8

**Many thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. Special thanks go out of course to Reijiro for her excellent job as beta-reader for this fic. I appreciate the help chica.**

**Read on and I hope ya'll enjoy.**

**BTW, I don't own 'em and I never will, blah, blah, blah, yada, yada, yada. We all know that by now. I do however get to obsess over them, lol.**

* * *

Quietly, Leonardo and Michelangelo crept along the rooftops of the city. The sun had set long ago, the night air bringing a bit of a cool breeze with it, a pleasant respite from the heat of the day. The pair had been watching a group of teenage boys for sometime. The group hadn't committed any crimes or shown any reason for the turtles to be suspicious, except one. The young man leading the group wore a jacket with the insignia of the Purple Dragons, the others did not.

The two turtles had been trailing the small crowd of nine for about twenty minutes when they finally stopped. The group walked into a small but crowded restaurant and, as expected, began causing trouble.

"Initiation?" Michelangelo whispered to Leonardo, a questioning look on his face.

"More than likely," Leonardo nodded.

Michelangelo crouched, waiting and ready for the signal from Leonardo.

Without making a noise, the pair crept down the fire escape and swiftly made their way over to the edge of the restaurant. With hand signals, Leonardo directed Michelangelo around to the other side of the building. With the staff now in the dining area, under the supervision of the invading punks, the two turtles were able to stealthily make their way through the back of the restaurant. With a glint of metal and a quick flick of the wrist, Leonardo and Michelangelo both sent their shuriken flying towards the lighting of the main dining area, casting the room into utter darkness.

Patrons screamed and hid under their tables as the sounds of 'thuds' and two voices were heard. By the time the police had arrived, the group of thugs was neatly tied up in the center of the room. The belongings they tried to steal were sitting next to them. The two turtles that had stopped them were already miles away.

"Man Leo," Michelangelo easily kept up with his older brother, his body still running on excitement from the fight. "Those guys were clueless!" he took a run and then a jump, flipping gracefully over to the next rooftop. "They had no idea what hit them," he sniggered as he looked to his left, seeing a smile creeping out on his brother's face.

"We did give them quite a shock," Leonardo agreed and proceeded to do a handspring, landing in a crouch on the edge of the brick building and surveying his surroundings.

"Shock is an understatement bro'," Michelangelo chuckled. He knelt down next to his brother and gave him a slap on the shell. "I think one of those guys was actually crying for his mommy," he giggled. "I guess I was just too fast for him." Michelangelo shrugged his shoulders and gave his brother a smug grin.

Leonardo shook his head in disbelief but soon flashed a mischievous look to Michelangelo.

"What?" Michelangelo questioned, now worried about the strange expression on his brother's face.

"You may have been too fast for those amateurs," Leonardo teased and switched the position of his feet, springing off towards the next ledge. "But I'm way too fast for you!" he called out as he quickly sprinted off into the distance.

Michelangelo stared in astonishment at his taunting brother. Not wanting to be outdone, the orange banded turtle stepped back and gave himself a running start. Racing towards the ledge, his toes gripped at the edge of the brickwork and he pushed himself off into the air, making his way to the next building. He raced toward the far away skyline, intent on closing the gap between Leonardo and himself.

(In another area of town)

Raphael crouched down in a corner of the rooftop. His hands felt along the rough texture of the brickwork until he found the right spot. "Perfect," he whispered to himself as he pushed a small piece of equipment into the little hole in the outside wall.

To the untrained eye, the large figure in the black stealth suit was invisible: blending in with the night sky. But, to his brother in the Battle-shell below, he was as clear as day.

"You catching the feed from this?" Raphael's gruff voice came over the speaker in the large van.

Donatello adjusted a few knobs, bringing the picture into focus. "Crystal clear Raph," he answered his brother. Looking up, Donatello viewed the four screens in front of him. At Leonardo's suggestion, he and Raphael were mounting cameras in strategic areas of the city. Leonardo was convinced that the Foot was not gone, merely biding their time until they reformed.

"I got it fixed on the Foot Tower a few blocks away," Raphael spoke up again. He looked off into the distance and viewed the tall structure, the Japanese pagoda piercing the sky atop it. "Can you pick up any details?"

"Plenty," Donatello responded. "Why?"

"Can you pick up this detail?" he heard Raphael ask him.

Looking at the monitor, Donatello frowned at the hand in view of the camera. He shook his head and grumbled for a moment before answering his brother. "You know Raph," Donatello said, exasperated. "That particular gesture only works if you have a middle finger. You might as well just be pointing at something."

"Geeze Don," the largest of the turtles grumbled. "Ruin a guys fun why don't ya?" There was a rustling sound and then footsteps as Raphael continued talking. "I'm on my way down." Making several jumps, Raphael went from one ledge to another until he made his way to the fire escape, quickly descending to the ground. Climbing into the driver's seat, he waited as Donatello made his way into the passenger's side.

"That was the last one," Raphael looked to his side as he started up the engine.

"Good," Donatello answered as he glanced at the clock. It was well past two in the morning and the realization of the hour caused the brainy turtle to yawn. "Let's head back to the lair," he continued. "I'm sure Leo and Mike are home by now."

Raphael didn't answer as he put the vehicle in gear and drove down the road. When they arrived home, they were greeted by Splinter who had been patiently waiting for his two remaining sons.

"You were successful in your endeavors?" the large rat asked as he walked out of the kitchen and moved toward the entrance, Donatello and Raphael still lingering at the steps leading to the elevator.

"Yes Master Splinter," Donatello bowed, Raphael followed suit and gave a bow as well.

"Very good," Splinter nodded in approval. "I am glad the two of you returned safely. Your brothers," he indicated with a sweep of his arm. "… are in the kitchen enjoying a cup of tea before bed. Would you care to join them?" He stared directly at Raphael as he asked this question.

"Who said we were enjoying this?" Michelangelo yelled from his seat in the kitchen. "It needs some sugar!"

Donatello quickly covered his mouth in an attempt to stifle his giggle; Leonardo could be heard in the other room, chastising his brother for the rude statement. "I'll be there in a moment Master Splinter," he reassured his father. "I just want to go put my things away."

"Of course," Splinter nodded his head as Donatello walked towards his lab. "Raphael?" he gave his largest son a questioning look.

"I'm kind of tired," Raphael admitted. "I think I'll just turn in."

"Very well my son," said Splinter, a hint of disappointment in his voice. He turned and watched as his son walked across the lair. Stopping at the base of the stairs, Raphael stopped and stared at his father, waiting to see if anything more was going to be said.

"Goodnight my son," Splinter smiled.

"Goodnight Dad." Ascending the stairs, Raphael could hear his brother's in the background, laughing. He was halfway up when he clearly heard Michelangelo's voice.

"Hey Raph!" the youngest called out after him. "Wait a sec'," Michelangelo entreated him. "I gotta ask you something."

Raphael paused and turned, his shoulder's hunched over. He didn't know why exactly, but he really just wanted to go to his room and get away from everyone. "Yeah?" he asked quietly.

"Look," Michelangelo stood at the base of the stairwell. "I was wanting to learn to speak Spanish and I thought that since you spoke several languages," he paused and gave his best puppy dog eyes. "…. maybe you could help me?" The orange banded turtle looked up, a childish but pleading grin on his face.

"Maybe," Raphael answered. "Just," he shrugged and tried not to look Michelangelo in the eye. "Just not right now, okay?"

"Yeah," Michelangelo didn't try to hide the disappointment in his voice or on his features. "Sure," he answered quietly and walked back to the kitchen. His usual step was now slowed to a defeated walk.

Raphael made his way into his room and shut the door behind him. Tossing his back pack onto his bed, he stood still for a moment and just stared at his surroundings. He looked at his bed and sighed. He wasn't really tired, just aggravated with himself really. Raphael knew he should have accepted his brother's apology, but pride was preventing that from happening.

Sighing again, he knelt down and pulled the metal foot locker out from under his bed. His fingers grabbed at the edge of the lid and pushed a small metal piece back revealing a digital screen and key pad. Pushing his thumb onto the screen, it made a 'beep' noise and he punched the correct code in, unlocking the lid. Lifting the lid, Raphael pulled out the shallow tray set on top; it carried his photos and small bits of things that were his. Underneath was revealed a small assortment of firearms and a stack of money. Quietly, he unstrapped his pistol and removed the ammunition before laying it down with the rest. Placing the top tray back, he shut the lid and slid it back under his bed.

Getting up he walked past his desk giving his stuffed tiger a pat on the head as he did so, and then headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

Several minutes later, Raphael emerged from the hot shower and sprawled out on his bed. He stretched and yawned, tired but not yet ready for sleep. With a grunt, he sat up, walked over to his desk and grabbed his laptop. Sitting comfortably on the bed, he opened the computer and pressed a few keys bringing up the screen. His actions were interrupted by three soft taps on his door. His father was there. "Enter," he said flatly.

Splinter walked into the room and looked around. Cluttered and dark were the words to describe it. He smiled and looked Raphael in the eye. He had yet to speak.

"Something wrong?" Raphael asked a curious expression now on his face.

"No my son," Splinter answered and stepped further into the room. "I merely wished to make sure you were alright."

"Oh," replied Raphael and turned his attention to the screen in front of him. It flashed a simple message, waiting for the young turtle to enter the correct password before it displayed any information. "I'm fine," he muttered.

"Very well," conceded Splinter and turned to head for the bedroom door. He stopped at the entrance to the hallway and turned to stare at his lone son. "It is a funny thing is it not?" he asked. His query was met with a silent and questioning stare. "Anyone can be a member of a family by simply being born into one. But," he paused, a knowing smile on his lips. "…to be a part of one take's time and effort." Splinter ended his phrase with a simple nod and stared at Raphael's face. The expression on it told the fatherly rat that his point had been made and the lesson had hit its mark. "Good night Raphael," he smiled.

"Uh, y-yeah…." Raphael stuttered, a hint of guilt in his voice. "Good night Dad."

When Michelangelo awoke late Sunday morning, he walked sleepily into the kitchen. With a loud yawn and a long stretch, he told his two brothers and father good morning.

"Coffee?" Donatello asked unnecessarily as his younger brother shuffled into the room.

Michelangelo answered with a nod of his head and took the cup that was waiting in his brother's hand. With a 'plop' he landed in the empty chair at the table and stared at the warm liquid, waiting for his brain to tell his hand what to do with the mug.

"Mike," Leonardo interrupted the conversation between the youngest's mind and his waiting appendage.

Michelangelo looked up: sleep still winning out and his eyes only halfway open. "Huh?" he managed to muster from his morning's limited vocabulary. His eyes fixated on a manila envelop in Leonardo's hand.

"Here," Leonardo slid the envelop across the table. "When I got up," he explained with an amused grin on his face. "This was on the kitchen table for you."

Still not entirely awake, Michelangelo fumbled for a moment until his finger's managed to pry open the sealed bit of paper. Unceremoniously, he dumped the contents out, a note, a stack of Post It's and a small, paper back Spanish to English dictionary. The orange banded turtle stared at the odd bits that fell out and took a long sip of his coffee. With another yawn, this one smaller than the first, he pulled out the letter and began to read the note to himself.

_Mike,_

_You want to learn Spanish? Fine. Here's what you need to do. The Post-It notes are all things in the lair. Use the dictionary to find the right items to attach them too. From now on, when I talk to you, I'm going to use the words in the little notes. You want to know what I'm saying, you'll learn them. Keep the dictionary with you because I'm gonna throw in new words here and there. See you later, Raph._

"Cool," Michelangelo smiled and happily began flipping through the little stack of papers, searching for words he recognized. "Where is he anyway?" he asked without even looking up.

"I think he went for a run or something," Donatello answered as he poured himself another cup of coffee. "What's in the envelope?"

"Espanola!" Michelangelo proudly answered.

(Later that day)

"April," Raphael groaned. "You've got to be kidding me," he continued. He walked out of the bedroom in a pair of black slacks, a red polo, and a black sports jacket. "I look like I walked off the set of The Sopranos!" He stood there, obviously frustrated.

The large turtle had been trying on clothes April had bought for him for awhile now. Things were either too short or too long. Nothing had proven to be even remotely comfortable and he was getting annoyed. April's oohs and aah's over what he walked out in weren't helping. Especially when she would squeal and tell him how 'cute' he looked.

April grinned as she sat on the couch and stared at the large turtle. Usually when she went shopping for her friends, it was always for food or items for their home. Clothes were a new issue and she was having fun with it. "Oh come on," she urged with a smile on her face. "It isn't that bad," April giggled as she appraised his attire, his feet hidden underneath the long legs of the black pants. "I hear this look was really popular with Al Capone!" she joked.

Raphael's brief glare was enough to send her into a fit of laughter. He was standing there with a disgruntled look on his face, his arms folded and his bottom lip sticking out. He was not a happy turtle. His growl brought her back to the seriousness of the situation.

"Fine," she let out one more laugh and held her hands up in defeat. "There's one more bag in there under the bed. I picked up a few things at The Gap," she told him. "See if those will fit."

Minutes later, Raphael emerged from the back room with a much happier look on his face. He was in a pair of khaki cargo pants and a red t-shirt white a button up shirt on over the top. "Much better," he sighed and smiled. "Thanks again for picking these things up." The outfit was topped off with a brown belt and pair of brown shoes. It took some time before April had Raphael convinced that flip flops were not dinner party attire.

"No problem," April smiled as she got up off the couch and walked into the kitchen. She looked back over her shoulder and continued talking. "Clothes shopping for one of you was a new experience for me." Pulling out two sodas she passed one over and finished her statement. "It was fun," she grinned.

"A little too much fun, I think," Raphael scolded her as he thought about the mountain of outfits she'd had him try on. He cringed, thinking about some of the clothes she had pulled out of the bag. Popping the top on the soda he looked over at her, his eyes narrowing. "What on earth possessed you to by plaid pants? Were they having a sale at Geriatric Junction?"

April didn't try to contain her laughter as she thought about the disgruntled face the obnoxious looking pants caused. She even thought she might have seen a small facial tick emerge as Raphael held the pants out, far, far away from his body, afraid they were going to jump on him and never come off. "C'mon," she held her hands up in defense. "I gotta have some fun somehow!" Before Raphael could even respond, April glanced at the clock over the stove and shooed him towards the front door. "You're going to be late if we don't leave now."

On his way out the door Raphael grabbed his back pack with his things and followed April to the rear exit of her building. He waited a moment for her to get in the van and took a quick look around before running for the vehicle. "You don't have to drop me off you know," he told her as he climbed into the seat and shut the door.

"Oh yes I do," April's voice rose as she pulled out onto he road. "I did not spend all morning shopping for clothes to have you ruin them by walking through the sewers."

"Okay, fine," Raphael slumped down in his seat. "Thanks," he whispered, his response was answered with a quick squeeze to his shoulder. He turned to see April flash him a quick grin then return to her driving. They remained silent until they pulled up to Santini's building.

"Where do I drop you off at?" April asked. She leered forward, still clutching the steering wheel, trying to decide which way to turn.

"Over there," Raphael pointed to the right where a small drive went behind the brick building. "They have a private parking area in the very back," he explained. "I generally go in through the back door."

April followed his directions and pulled into the back and up to the door. She stared at Raphael but he didn't move. "You alright?"

"Yeah," he answered. "Just wondering what this is going to be like." He sat up and tried to give a little smile. "Santini likes to show off a bit. Chances are this is going to be a dinner where the food's got some big name and small portions."

"A fancy dinner doesn't sound so bad," she tried to reassure him as she reached to the seat behind the large turtle.

"A beer and a burger would do me just fine," Raphael muttered as he started to open the door. He turned to tell April thanks but was stopped when he saw her pushing a bouquet of flowers into his grasp. Tulips, carnations, and other various blooms in different sizes and colors teased him. "What are these for?"

April's sigh was not a quiet one and the eye roll was a bit exaggerated. "You said Santini has a niece, right?"

"Right."

"She's about your age isn't she?"

"Yes," he looked at the redhead suspiciously.

"Then give them to her," April stated before she shoved him out of the van. She smiled at the large mutant as he seemed to timidly step away from the van and turned to shut the door. "Casey and I are going to an early movie but we'll be home after that. Call me and I'll come get you."

Raphael simply nodded.

"Hey," April whispered. "Try to relax. It'll be fun!"

Taking in a breath to steady his nerves, Raphael turned and started for the door of the building. Before he could push the buzzer the door opened to show Angie smiling and waiting on him. He stepped in and she shut the door behind him.

Angie was wearing a white strapless dress with red poppies decorating the fabric. They looked as if they had been hand painted onto the white background. Her hair was simply pulled back into a barrette and it fell down over her back. "Glad you could make it," Angie looked up at him expectantly.

He just stared back, not sure what to say. Raphael's left hand gripped tightly to the handle on his back pack. His right squeezed harder on the stem of the flowers, the cellophane wrapping making a crinkling noise as he did so.

Angie cocked her head at the large mutant in front of her. She had to giggle as she realized he was getting nervous. Looking down at the flowers in his hand, she pointed over. "Are those for me?"

"Uh," Raphael looked down, remembering what he still had in his grasp. "Yeah," his hand shot forward. "Sorry, here."

"Thank you," she looked up at him with a warm smile. "Come on," she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the stairs. "Dinner's almost ready and I'm starving!"

(At the lair)

Michelangelo was having way too much fun with the items that had been left for him. Every possible object in the lair was now decorated with the bright yellow sticky squares of paper. Large block letters adorned the little notes, detailing the Spanish translation for each thing. Michelangelo had even gone so far as to retrieve another stack of Post-It notes and label items that Raphael had not included. Now he was happily walking around the lair, blurting out the words and looking them up in his dictionary to make sure they were indeed correct.

Donatello exhaled noisily in frustration. He pulled yet another bright sticky note off of the monitor as he walked by. Leonardo immediately put his hand over his mouth to silence his laughter. Donatello was apparently not aware of the fact that one of the little sheets had made its way onto his shell, thanks to Michelangelo. The purple banded turtle was now walking around with the label '_el nerdo'_. Apparently nerd didn't translate into Spanish like Michelangelo thought it would.

It did make the leader curious as to what could possibly be mounted onto his shell as well. Stretching he reached behind him and lightly rubbed his hands over his carapace. Successfully, he peeled a small piece of paper off and looked at it. The words _retentivo anal _stared back at him in a mocking fashion. "MICHELANGELO!!!!!!!!!!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Many thanks to Reijiro for her amazing job as a beta. Can you feel the love chica? Lol. Anywho, here's the next chapter. I was going to eliminate a certain revelation about Angie's past but I was assured it would not move her in the direction of a Mary Sue so here goes. As far as what Raph was telling Mikey? The translation is at the end. Many thanks to all for reading and reviewing. Also, this chapter is why the rating is "M", (sighs) I have no tolerance for ignorance.**

Andrew Wallace sat in his leather chair behind his desk. He stared intently at the monitors on the wall beside him. David Black kept a stern watch on them as well. One of the monitors showed a green skinned mutant walking into the back door of a red brick building. The other caught the tail end of a Volkswagen van as it drove away.

"I knew he would be back," the old man stated smugly as he turned around in his chair. Folding his arms across his chest, he stared at the tall brown haired man. "I want to know every time he comes and goes from that building," Wallace instructed, David Black acknowledged his bosses' orders with a nod. "Also, I want to know who owns that vehicle we saw him leaving."

"Yes sir," Black answered. "The camera only picked up a partial on the plate but I should be able to match it up. There can't be too many VW vans in this city."

"Very good," the man behind the desk hissed out. "Once you have done that, see if it is possible to mount a camera outside their residence as well." He stopped and thought for a moment. "How is Mr. Grohl fairing with the little projects he was given?"

"Slowly at first," Black reported. "But Robert has been keeping a close watch on him. His work has since picked up."

"Excellent, excellent," Overseer drummed his fingers together. "Have Fuentes start tailing Santini's niece. I want pictures and times detailing her daily schedule. She might be just the extra bargaining chip we need to get the mutant to do our bidding. Has there been any word on the location of my two previous employees?"

"Yes sir," Black responded. He placed a manila envelope on the desk top, papers and photos sliding out. "They're currently in Europe. Germany to be exact. We have a copy of their travel itinerary as well."

Quietly, Overseer sifted through the photos and paperwork. He rubbed at his chin and growled at the pictures that showed Jake with his arms around Caitlin. Shifting in his seat, he angrily crumpled them up and threw them in a nearby trash bin. "I want to wait and observe for now," he spoke to the man on the other side of his desk. "Let's give them a month. They should be relaxed and comfortable by then, no longer on guard for their safety." Wallace looked up, an evil gleam in his eye. "Then, they will be mine."

* * *

Soon after sitting down at the table with his friends, Raphael relaxed. At first, seeing the place setting with a multitude of forks, spoons, and knives, all in various sizes, was a little unnerving. But, as he was wondering which fork was to be used for the salad sitting in front of him, Angie quickly tapped her foot to his, getting his attention. Looking across the dark wood dining table he watched as she slyly pointed to the correct utensil and began eating. Letting out a silent sigh of relief, Raphael picked up his fork and began to eat as well.

Dinner soon followed the salad. Raphael was relieved to see something substantial, Beef Wellington, and happily dug in. A conversation between himself, Angie and Carlos Santini filled in the spots between bites. Yard Dog simply sat at the table and eyed the young mutant as he ate.

Raphael didn't worry about the large man staring at him. The young turtle knew he was there because Santini had invited him. If Santini's bodyguard wasn't happy with the arrangement, he could take it up with his boss. Raphael planned to enjoy himself.

"Now then," Santini perused the table; everyone was finished with their dinner and leaning back in their chairs, letting their food digest. "It is a lovely evening," he stood and gave a sweep of his arm. "Why don't we have dessert and coffee out in the garden?" Everyone nodded their heads in agreement and began to stand. "Angelita?"

"Si'?"

"Would you mind bringing coffee and desert for everyone up to the roof?" Santini asked as he pushed his chair in.

"No, not at all," she smiled and turned to head for the kitchen.

"Albert?" Santini spoke to his bodyguard. Raphael hid his laugh as he chuckled at the man's name.

Yard Dog turned and looked at his boss and nodded. Quietly, he went and followed Angie into the kitchen to help her carry the two trays up to the roof.

With a quick turn on his heel, Santini went to the stairwell that led to the upstairs garden, Raphael following behind him.

Raphael was surprised to see that it was now night and the sky was pitch black. Being above the streetlights gave the turtle a peek of few of the stars that were visible. He followed the tall Hispanic man over to the table amidst the garden of flowers and sat down. Being a Sunday night meant that there were no patrons at the club. As a result, it was unusually quiet. Sometimes the large turtle liked the quiet, but for some reason, he found a feeling of nervousness growing in his stomach.

Reaching into the inside of his coat, Santini pulled out an envelope and passed it over. "Your instructions are inside," Santini nodded as Raphael folded the envelope and put it in his pants pocket. "How quickly can you take care of this matter?" Eagerly, the thin man leaned forward on his elbows and eyed the large turtle in front of him.

"Tomorrow night," Raphael nodded.

"There are two very important directions you are to follow," the human pressed further. He waited a moment and Raphael kept his attention on the man's face, looking him in the eye. "One: Angelita knows nothing of this and I wish to keep it that way."

Raphael nodded 'yes'.

"Two," he held up two fingers. "The package you are retrieving is sealed. Do not look inside."

"How will I know it's the right one?"

"Do not worry about that," Santini simply stated. "You are only to deliver the money to my supplier and bring me my items."

Raphael was going to question the older man with something else but the door to the roof opened and Yard dog walked out along with Angie. He found it odd that the large man was still giving him a suspicious glare. Disregarding the look, the mutant turtle happily dug into his slice of cheesecake and sipped on his coffee.

When dessert was over with, Santini stood and smiled at his niece. She giggled in return. "Now then," he announced and turned his attention directly to Raphael. "My niece insisted on buying you a gift to thank you for saving her life. And," he sighed, still smiling at Angie. "I have never been one to refuse my little angel. So my friend," he waved his hand and pointed toward the door leading downstairs. "If you will accompany us to the garage she can present you with it."

Curious as to what it could be, Raphael stood up and began to follow everyone to the door leading downstairs.

Becoming impatient with the slow pace of the group, Angie promptly grabbed Raphael's right hand and pulled on him. "C'mon," she urged. "Rapido!"

Raphael grinned at the young girl who had yet to let go of his hand. He found himself rapidly descending the stairs as he tried to keep pace with the eager young lady in front of him. He did find it a bit odd when she led him out of the back of their building to an empty parking lot, save Santini's car.

"What gives Angie?" Raphael asked as he looked about the enclosed alleyway. "I don't see anything." His eyes darted back and forth, looking about. He didn't like just standing out in the open, even if it was dark.

"Just be patient," Angie gave his arm a playful smack. "I have to wait for help to go get your surprise," she gave a satisfied grin at the look of astonishment on Raphael's face. "It's too big for me to get by myself."

As if on cue, Santini and Yard Dog finally caught up with the two teenagers. Promptly, Angie grabbed the large black man by the arm and began tugging on him. "Ayúdeme por favor mi perro," she gave him her best pleading look.

Not being able to resist, Yard Dog simply rolled his eyes and let out a small huff. Quietly he followed Angie to a darkened area at the back of the empty lot.

Raphael stood there, arms folded as he watched the large body guard raise the metal door to the small garage. He waited, wondering what they were going to walk out with. The turtle gave a slight jump when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He had forgotten that Santini was still there.

"My apologies my friend. I did not mean to startle you," he explained. Smiling he continued on when Raphael gave a quiet 's'okay.' "My Angelita," he continued. "She is very excited about this," he laughed. "She has been so nervous about this gift, wondering if she got the right colors."

"What is it?" Raphael asked as he turned to look at the man behind him.

"See for yourself," Santini pointed as his niece and body guard came walking out.

Raphael's eyes grew wide at the sight. Angie came out first, carrying a black helmet with red flames on it. Yard Dog was close behind her, pushing a motorcycle. It was also black with red flames that traced their way down the bikes' body. A spare helmet was attached to the back.

Stunned, Raphael said nothing at first. He simply walked out towards the bike, his mouth gaping open.

"You don't like it?" Angie asked when she noticed he hadn't said anything. "I… I thought you liked motorcycles?"

"I love it," he said in earnest. Turning, he smiled at her and took the offered helmet. "I just wasn't expecting this. Thank-you," he answered enthusiastically. Quickly he turned and extended his hand to Angie's uncle. "Thank you sir."

Santini smiled and grasped Raphael's hand in his. "You saved the life of my little angel," the thin man looked at his niece. "I am indebted to you."

Angie walked over as Raphael was clutching tightly to the helmet. "I wasn't sure which kind to get. This is the one the salesman recommended. Is it okay?"

"Are you kidding me?" Raphael asked in astonishment. "It's a Kawasaki Ninja ZX-10R sport bike! Cycle World magazine has named it the best Superbike for the past three years. How could I not like it?"

Angie gave a sigh of relief as she watched the young mutant kneel down and look closely at the engine. Slowly he ran his fingers over the body and chrome of the piece of machinery. She let out a quiet laugh as he began talking to himself, pointing out parts of the engine and naming them. Eventually, he stood back up and walked to his three hosts, a large smile still present on his face.

"So," Raphael gave Angie a smug grin. "I noticed there's a spare helmet on the back of the bike," he indicated with a jerk of his head. "I don't suppose you'd want to go for a test ride?"

"Si!" she gave an excited response. "Por favor Tio. Pleeeeeaaase," Angie gave her best pleading look.

"Oh alright," Carlos Santini rolled his eyes in exasperation. "It's already 9:30 though, Angelita. I am not so sure about you being out late, especially on a school night." He looked once more at his niece's face; his efforts to resist were nothing more than futile.

Angie took the brief moment of silence as a chance to give reason why she should be able to go. "I don't have class until ten tomorrow morning," she started in a matter-of-fact tone. "Plus there are no tests. It's only a lecture class. So even if I do miss it or I'm late, I can have Loretta take notes for me." She stood there, waiting, her arms folded across her chest and a satisfied look on her face.

"You can't ride a motorcycle in a dress," Santini countered.

"I can change clothes," Angie quickly told him. She watched her uncle's face as it started to waiver. "Yes," she jumped at him, kissing his cheek. "Thank you uncle!" she blurted out as she ran to the building door. "I'll be right back," she called to Raphael.

"Hey Angie!" he answered her and she stopped to look at him. "Put on some sneakers or something okay? The tail pipes will burn your feet if you wear those sandals." Raphael smiled in amusement as she nodded yes and swiftly disappeared behind the door and up the stairwell. It was becoming obvious to him who made the final decisions in this house.

"Raphael."

The large mutant turned on hearing the sound of his name. "Yes sir?"

"My Angelita is to be home by 11 o'clock, not a second later," Santini stressed. "Is that clear?" The older man's eyes became slits and his face echoed the serious tone set by his words. Santini didn't wait for an answer. He quickly turned on his heel and made his way to the door.

Yard Dog had been silent all evening, not uttering a single word. He'd simply watched the two teenagers during dinner as they talked. Now, with his boss walking away and out of earshot, he had the opportunity to speak his mind. With a smile, he extended his hand to Raphael; giving the impression he was going to shake the mutant's hand. As Raphael reached out to return the gesture, the large body guard grasped the teenager's hand and pulled him close, wrapping his freehand around Raphael's shoulders, speaking in a low tone. "You hurt my little girl," he warned. "I kill you, got it?"

Raphael thought back briefly to the last time he and Yard Dog had fought. He had barely won against the large man and even he would admit that was by a stroke of luck. Not wanting to test whether or not he could win a second time, the mutant turtle simply gave a nod of 'yes' to the large man who still had him in a tight squeeze. The hold was only broken when the door swung open and Angie happily stepped out.

Releasing his grip at the sight of the young girl, Yard Dog quickly walked over and gave Angie a small kiss on the forehead. "Have fun," he told her with a smile and turned to give Raphael a glare, stressing his previous words.

Curious, Angie walked over and eyed Raphael. "What did he say to you?" she asked as she put on a denim jacket over her white blouse. Quickly, she pulled her hair back into a pony tail as Raphael handed her the spare helmet.

"Just a few words of…."

"He threatened to kill you didn't he?" she stood there, arms crossed not yet reaching for the offered piece of equipment.

"Yeah," Raphael nodded and shrugged his shoulders. He stared at her as she stood in front of him. She had exchanged the dress for a white blouse and a pair of khaki colored capris. He nodded in approval at the pair of white sneakers on her feet.

"Will this work?" Angie cocked her head at him, noticing his gaze.

"Sorry," he chuckled. "Didn't mean to stare." Promptly he passed over the helmet and sat down on the bike, pulling his own helmet on. Turning around, he lifted the visor and helped her onto the high seat in the back and pointed a few things out to her. "Put your feet here," he indicated to the small metal bars jutting out on each side.

"What do I hold onto?" she asked, a little nervous.

"Just hold onto me," Raphael smiled. "I'll lean when we go into the turns. All you have to do is sit there and look pretty," he instructed as she cocked an eyebrow to his little statement.

Promptly he turned around and started the bike up, a little disappointed when all Angie did was place her hands lightly on his sides. "You ready?" he called back behind him.

"Yes," she managed to shout over the sound of the engine. "Just not too fast okay?" her voice answered shakily.

Raphael complied and slowly made his way out to the street, Angie's body sitting stiff and nervous behind him. He eased onto the road, staying just at the speed limit and felt Angie relax a little as they made their way down the street. Then, without warning, he popped the clutch and sped off down the blacktop, Angie squealing and wrapping her arms tightly around his midsection in reaction to the burst of speed. _Better,_ he thought to himself. _Much better._

(At the club)

Santini was sitting at his desk, going through paperwork and signing in the required areas. He noticed as a large figure walk into the slightly darkened room, the only illumination came from a desk lamp over his head. "You were very quiet at dinner tonight," the Hispanic man stated as his bodyguard walked over and sat in a chair opposite the mahogany desk.

"I should be happy?" Yard Dog asked as he sat back, legs crossed at the ankles, his hands gripping the armrests.

"You're going to break the furniture if you don't let go," Santini said at the squeak of the leather. He still hadn't looked up from his paperwork.

"You're okay with her being out with him?" Yard Dog finally asked. He was now leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

Santini stopped and quietly placed his pen down. His hands folded together, Angie's uncle gave his body guard a thoughtful look. "You have a reason for your objections?"

The large black man nodded yes.

"Is it what he does?" Santini asked. "Or that he carries a gun with him?"

"Neither," came a quiet reply.

"Then what?"

"Look at him," Yard Dog stood up and held his hands out. "He's not like you or me," the man continued. "He's…"

"Green?" Santini asked, eyebrows raised. "I am surprised at you my friend," Santini leaned back in his leather chair. "You are judging him by his skin color?" Arms folded, he eyed his body guard as the large man sat back down, a guilty expression on his face. "How many times were you looked down on because of you dark skin?"

The body guard didn't answer. Instead he inspected the floor.

"Women still clutch their purses when you walk down the street beside them, don't they?" Santini didn't wait for an answer. "Car doors are automatically locked when you pull up next to a person at a light," he continued. "I have heard others mutter the words 'nigger,' 'welfare rat,' and other terms when you walk past so I know you have as well."

The large man nodded 'yes.'

"I, as well, have put up with racial slurs. Although I find it hard to resist the urge to respond to the term 'wet back' when I am not Mexican but Hispanic." Shaking his head and letting out a sigh, Carlos Santini got up and walked around to lean on the front of his desk. "We have had to work twice as hard as everyone else just to prove we are even half as good. All because of the color of our skin. I would hate to think that you were now sharing in this narrowed minded way of thinking, especially since you know what it is like to be on the receiving end."

"I'm sorry," Yard Dog's head stayed down in shame. "I just worry about her."

"It is alright my friend," Santini placed an understanding hand on the large man's shoulder. "When you signed the papers eighteen years ago, it was because you wanted what was best for her. I forget that sometimes. But please," he continued. "Know that I love our little girl just as much as you do and do my best to keep her out of harms way."

"I do," came the quiet reply.

"Good," the thin man smiled, patted his friend on the back and started to walk out of the office. "It is late," he turned to his friend who was now walking behind him. "I believe I shall have a drink before I retire. Would you care to join me?"

* * *

It was just past eleven when Raphael was making his way home. Lazily, he turned the bike around corners, taking the long way back to the warehouse. He wasn't in a hurry. After calling April to explain why he didn't need her to pick him up, the large turtle was enjoying the ride back to the lair, his mind replaying what had transpired that evening.

"_Hey Angie," he called out to the girl as she loudly stomped away from him. "I didn't mean to scare you. Honest!"_

"_Well, what do you think 'not too fast' means?" her voice rose, a slight crack to it. "I've never ridden a bike before; I'm not used to going at such high speeds." Angie stood rigid, her back to the large turtle. Her arms were folded across her chest, her left hand still clutching her helmet._

_Raphael had brought her up to the over look where Jake used to take him. It was a place he knew was safe from prying eyes, where he could talk openly if he wanted. On the way over, Angie kept a tight hold on the mutant turtle but had never said anything about going too fast or even asked for him to slow down. He thought the silence meant she was enjoying the ride, not that she was scared speechless. When they got to their destination, she quickly dismounted the bike and pushed away from him._

_With a resigned sigh, Raphael placed his helmet on the bike and walked up to the scared girl. "I'm sorry," he whispered behind her, his hands tentatively reaching out for her shoulders. "I won't do it again," he tried to reassure her._

_Angie spun around before he could touch her, tears in her eyes, one droplet had already made its way down her cheek. The look on her face was enough to make a feeling of guilt well up inside the large turtle, causing his stomach to twist up in knots. "You promise?" she asked, her voice more even and her breath slowing down._

_Raphael smiled and gave her a nod of 'yes' before he bravely reached out to wipe the stray tear from her cheek. "Promise," he answered. He was surprised when Angie leaned forward into him, wrapping her arms around his waist once more. In response, he nervously placed his hands lightly on her back and then soon relaxed, tightening his grip a little more. _

_Minutes later, the incident now forgotten, the two were sitting up on the cement picnic table by the bike. The conversation drifted around the two, telling stories that told about their past and friends, even though the large turtle kept his recounts very vague. Raphael even managed to admit to her that he had two more brothers and a father. He laughed at Angie's confused and somewhat scared face when she heard Splinter was a giant rat._

_Sitting on the table top, admiring the twinkle of the city lights below, Raphael finally looked at his watch. "Oh Crap!" he blurted out, realizing the time. "I've got twenty minutes to get you home."_

_Angie's face mimicked his sense of urgency as he looked at her. Quickly, the two raced to the bike and put their helmets on. "You know I can't take it slow getting you home," Raphael turned around. "If I do, you'll be really late."_

_Angie nodded in understanding. "Just be careful, okay?" In anticipation of a speedy take off, Angie leaned forward and wrapped her arms tightly around the large turtles' waist, her eyes shut tight, ready for the fast ride. Before she knew it, it was over. Raphael had her home with five minutes to spare. _

_Standing on the doorstep under a lamp, Raphael brushed Angie's cheek with his right hand and kissed the side of her face, whispering 'Goodnight' as he did so. His lips lingered on her left cheek, the warm feel of her skin causing a hitch in his breath. He was surprised when Angie didn't pull away. Instead, she ran her hand up his left arm and held tight to it, rubbing the side of her face against his. Feeling brave, he moved a bit, sliding his lips across her skin and stopping to place a gentle kiss to her mouth. His actions resulted in Angie returning the display of affection, leaning into him and pressing her mouth harder. Before he knew it, his hands were tangled up in her hair, Angie's arms wrapped around his neck. When it was over, the two hesitantly let go._

_Raphael watched Angie on the doorstep as he walked backwards towards his new bike, a silly little grin now plastered on his face. He stumbled a bit over a piece of debris on the ground. A result of not watching where he was going._

Now in the garage, just above their underground home, Raphael sat silently, holding tight to his helmet as he shut his eyes and focused on the lingering scent of her hair and the feel of her skin against his. The large turtle's eyes snapped open when his phone blurted out. Looking at the screen, the word 'Mikey' popped up. Rolling his eyes, he flipped the phone open and answered. "What's up?"

"Hola mi hermano!" came a cheerful reply. "Que pasa?"

"No mucho," Raphael gave a devious smile. "Santini me compró una danza del regazo y conseguí perdido totalmente y conduje el hogar bebido. Oh sí, conseguí tirado encima para conducir mientras que estaba intoxicado y tengo que ir a cortejar para él la semana próxima, » he blurted out quickly.

There was a silence on the other end for a moment, the sounds of pages flipping. Michelangelo finally let out a defeated sigh when he realized he wasn't going to be able to remember all the words to look up. "You went too fast you know," he grumbled into the phone. "You did it on purpose too."

"Sorry man," Raphael laughed. "Most people speak Spanish at a fast pace. You're just going to have to get used to it. Listen," he continued before his younger brother could protest. "You guys need to get up to the garage and see what I brought home."

"A puppy?" Michelangelo blurted out in jest.

"No you wing nut. Just get up here will ya'?"

"C'mon guys," Michelangelo exclaimed, shutting his phone, and slapping his other brothers on the shoulder. Promptly he turned the movie off, a series of 'hey' and 'what did you do that for' protesting his actions. "Raph has a surprise up the garage he wants to show us," Michelangelo answered as he moved to the elevator, Donatello and Splinter in tow. Leonardo stayed behind on the couch.

"Hey Leo," Donatello called out to the oldest. "Aren't you coming?"

"No," the leader shook his head and eyed the blank screen. "I don't think he meant all of us."

"Oh for Pete's sake," Michelangelo grumbled and stomped back over to where his brother remained. "He said 'you guys' not 'everyone but Leo,'" the orange banded turtle pulled on his brother. "Now quit moping and get up."

Giving in so his brother would let go, Leonardo got up off the couch and walked, without much enthusiasm, to the lift. Making it to the top level, he stepped out and off to the side as Raphael explained things like compact valve trains, camshafts, and forged pistons to the rest of his family.

As Raphael knelt down with his back to his father and brothers, he rambled on excitedly about his new bike, pointing out all the features it came with.

Smiling, Splinter quietly tapped Michelangelo and Donatello on the shoulder and pointed to the elevator. Without a sound the trio stepped back into the capsule and made their way downstairs.

The sound of the closing doors caused the two remaining turtles to look behind themselves and notice they were the only ones left. Raphael stood there, mouth open, trying to say something to his dejected looking brother, but no words came out.

"I'll just…" Leonardo spoke softly and pointed to the area where the elevator ascended from the floor again. Hesitantly, he stepped over to leave but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait," Raphael whispered.

Leonardo turned to see his brother staring at him, nervousness lingering between the two. "I really am sorry about what I said," the leader spoke.

Raphael stood there, his face set in a frown, his shoulders slumped. "I know," he admitted. "I've been a jerk and I …,"he took in a deep breath. "I get mad and I can't always control my temper. I'm sorry," the large turtle blurted out.

"Sure," Leonardo smiled and slapped his brother on the shoulder. "Come on," he led Raphael towards the capsule that took them downstairs. "We just started a movie and hopefully," he let out a sigh. "Mikey hasn't eaten all the popcorn."

* * *

Translation: _Santini bought me a lap dance and I got completely wasted and drove home drunk. Oh yeah, I got pulled over for driving while intoxicated and have to go to court for it next week._

Don't ask me where that came from, I have no clue.


	10. Chapter 10

"You know," Leonardo chastised. "You could at least let us know where you were." He eyed Raphael, his brother simply stood there nonchalantly chewing on an apple, still staring into the refrigerator and mulling over more choices.

Raphael eyed the small red object and looked it over with care before taking another bite. If he had heard Leonardo at all, he was simply ignoring him. Holding the apple between his teeth, he shoved a few items aside and pulled out the small carton of chocolate milk. Smiling, he didn't even bother to pour the sweet liquid into a glass. The large turtle simply tossed the cap onto the counter top and chugged away.

"Raph," Leonardo raised his eye ridges and heaved a sigh in frustration. He hated it when his brothers would totally disregard him. It was for the sake of his family that he asked these questions. Knowing where everyone was and what they were doing kept the leader somewhat sane. If he knew where his brother's were, then he felt a little more in control of the chaos their life could be. He felt that his brothers were protected should something go wrong. But Raphael was still ignoring him. "RAPH!"

"What?" Startled, Raphael almost choked down the last of the chocolate milk, sputtering a bit and wiping a few dribbles from his mouth and white t-shirt. He glared at his blue banded brother, standing there with his arms folded and a look on his face that Raphael didn't care for. It was the I_ am the leader and you're not so you better do as I say or I'll tell Splinter look._ Raphael sighed. He hated that look. Sometimes he wanted to smack it off his brother's face. With a bit of aggravation in his movements, he slammed the now empty milk container into the garbage bin. "Monday night I went for a ride," he explained, taking one last bite of his apple. "Nothing more." Still hungry, he turned around and began raiding the cabinets. Lifting weights after a practice always made him hungry.

"You were gone for four hours," Leonardo stressed. "You could have at least told us where you were headed." He turned and watched as Raphael once again disappeared behind the refrigerator door, his arm resting on the edge and fingers tapping in thought. "Or you could have at least had your phone on. We had no clue where you were or how to get in touch with you." Leonardo shook his head in disbelief at the lack of response. He honestly believed Raphael was doing it on purpose, giving himself a chance to come up with a decent, believable story to explain his whereabouts.

"Look," the large turtle stood up, clutching the jelly and a loaf of bread to his chest. With his foot he shut the door to the ice box. "I went for a ride on my bike, then," he glared at his older brother and dropped the items on the table. "I went to Angie's and hung out there for awhile." Turning around, Raphael reached for the jar of peanut butter and grabbed a knife from the drawer. It wasn't a lie, not really. He did hit the streets on his motorcycle. He stopped off at an old jewelry store and made a pick up then headed for Santini's building and dropped off the package and got paid. So essentially, what he was telling was the truth, in a round about sort of way.

"Okay," Leonardo sighed. "Fine. Just next time," he rubbed at his forehead. "Let someone know where you are okay? It's something we all do for each other."

"Whatever."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Leonardo left the kitchen and went to his father's room. He suddenly felt the need to meditate.

Smearing a large glop of peanut butter onto the bread, Raphael gave a little smirk of satisfaction. He liked getting under Leonardo's skin every now and then. It was his way of giving the leader a reality check. Raphael liked reminding his brother that the rest of the world doesn't always work the way he thought it should and that there is the possibility that Leonardo isn't always right. Letting out a small chuckle, the large turtle finished making his sandwich and headed up to his room to get cleaned up. He felt like going out for awhile.

"Mikey put that down!"

"What?" the youngest gave his most innocent look. "I just wanted to see what it was."

"It," Donatello snatched the little grey box with the big red button from his brother's hand. "…is a long range remote control for my dynamic thermally charged miniature imploding space modulator." Donatello quickly placed the small item somewhere he was certain it would be at least temporarily safe from his brother's reach and resumed his search.

"A wha…?" Michelangelo asked as he tucked a comic book into his belt and scratched his head, trying to remember the long name the tiny little gadget had.

The purple clad turtle sighed in aggravation. He forgot that his brother's mind didn't operate quite as fast as his. Sometimes Donatello would forget not to use such big words. "The little box," he started as he continued opening desk drawers, hunting for a certain item. "…has a remote switch inside. Pushing the switch in the little box makes a big box far away go boom…"

"And things explode!" Michelangelo happily completed.

"No," Donatello corrected. "Not explode, but implode. Rather than causing debris to go flying out in unknown trajectories and possibly harming innocents, this little device causes an implosion." The now talking turtle stood up and faced Michelangelo as he continued to give the science lesson. "Usually to cause an implosion, a person would need a certain amount of charges set off a various rates that would force the building to fall in on itself. But I made a device that, when placed in the very center of an area, will structurally weaken an establishment from the inside." Michelangelo's eyes began to glaze over as Donatello continued his speech. "you see, inside the larger box are several smaller charges that are set to fly out in a specific pattern and speed so that as they move towards the outer edges of it's set parameters, they slowly fire off, one by one, starting with the charges in the center. This way, the building implodes, causing it to fall in on itself with less noise and mess. It also uses fewer materials and takes less time to set up than using regular explosives would."

"Uh…..okay?"

Donatello sighed and shook his head. He should have known better. Aggravated, he went back to his search. "You know," his eyes focused on Michelangelo. "You could make yourself useful and help me find what it is I'm looking for."

"What's that?" the youngest asked, already opening and shutting cabinet doors, looking for anything in particular.

"A blank DVD," Donatello answered. "I know I had a whole stack of them. I need a new one to record the feed from the cameras. The one that's in there now is almost full and I can't find any blank ones." He looked up when he heard a small 'eep' from his brother. Rising, Donatello found Michelangelo nervously chewing on his fingernails, his eyes moving about side to side, silently praying for the necessary items to pop into existence.

"Michelangelo," Donatello said sternly. Slowly and purposely, he made his way over to fidgety sibling. "What did you do?"

"I didn't know you were going to need them, honest," the youngest backed up trying to put some space between his brother and himself. "I used your DVD's and Raph's laptop to download a bunch of movies off the internet." In one last ditch effort, Michelangelo tried his best to give his brother the most pitiful look possible. One that said 'I'm sorry, please don't kill me, and you know you're my favorite brother,' all at once. It didn't work. Michelangelo's screams of terror could be heard throughout the lair.

Splinter and Leonardo came running from the ninja masters room. Swords had been unsheathed and a walking stick was held high, ready for whatever was causing the young to turtle to yell out in fright. Raphael was quickly behind his father and brother, leaping down from the second level, his right hand holding tightly to the butt of a pistol. Coming into the main living area, the threesome found Donatello sitting astride Michelangelo's shell. Donatello had his brother's arms pinned back with one hand; the other was holding one of Michelangelo's precious comic books over the water pool, ready to drop the poor paper mercilessly into the depths below. Leonardo glared at the firearm gripped tightly in Raphael's hand.

"Donatello!" Splinter spoke out sternly. "What is the meaning of this?" The old rat received no answer, save for his son's maniacal laughter and utterance's of water logged super heroes. Cautiously, Splinter stepped forward and changed his tactics. "Donatello," he spoke softly this time. "Hand over the comic book and let your brother up."

"No," Donatello answered firmly, his eyes still fixated on his younger brother beneath him. "He needs to be taught a lesson."

"Look Donnie," Leonardo stammered as he walked around into his brother's line of sight. "Tell us what Mikey did and we'll make him pay, I promise." Michelangelo glared at the oldest when he heard that statement.

Slowly, Donatello took a deep breath and let it out, speaking through gritted teeth. "I had April pick up a month's supply of DVD's so I could continuously record the feed from the security camera's Raph and I set up." His grip on the comic tightened and the paperback made a crinkling sound as the cover was squished. Michelangelo felt his stomach churn at the sound. It was the first issue of the Silver Sentry after all.

"Okay," Leonardo whispered, keeping his brother talking. "What happened next?"

"What happened next?" Donatello exclaimed. "Michelangelo is what happened! He used up all the blank ones, along with Raph's laptop, to download movies onto, and converted them to a read only format. I can't record over them and now I don't have any empty ones left!"

Michelangelo, now able to get a hand free, struggled to save his precious comic book from its impending doom but his reach wasn't long enough. He let out a small "eeep!" as he watched the paper fall from Donatello's three fingers and down toward the murky water below. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as Leonardo caught the comic at the last minute.

"Don," Raphael started, slightly aggravated that this was the cause of such a big ruckus. "Why don't you just record over what Mike already has on the disc?"

"I can't," Donatello answered through gritted teeth. "I didn't buy the rewrite-able ones."

"Why the hell not?" A heavy tap from Splinter's walking stick made the large turtle reconsider his words. "Why didn't you get the rewrite-able ones?"

The purple banded turtle whipped his head around to his family. "I didn't get those because I was afraid some idiot," he glared back at Michelangelo. "…would record over info we might need!"

"Enough," Splinter calmly spoke. "Donatello, let your brother up."

"But…"

"Let him up," the father said again in a much firmer tone.

Reluctantly, Donatello stood up and backed away from his little brother. Quickly, Michelangelo jumped up and stretched. Then he gratefully took his once endangered comic from Leonardo and began to try and smooth out the wrinkles in the paper. "Thanks a lot Don," he muttered as he looked over his shoulder. "You ruined it."

"Michelangelo," the orange banded turtle turned his head at the sound of his name. Splinter was standing there, arms folded and a stern look on his face. Raphael was beside his father and his look wasn't any better.

"Taking your brother's things without first gaining permission has become a problem for you," the old rat began.

"Yeah," Raphael stepped forward as he returned the pistol to its holster. Michelangelo took a timid step back. "When the hel…" he paused. "When the heck did you take my laptop anyway? You haven't asked to use it in over three weeks!" Again he stepped forward, poking his smaller brother in the plastron, Michelangelo once more taking a step back.

Donatello joined in the intimidation practice. "And I saw you using Leo's butterfly swords the other day to cut up potatoes." He caught Leonardo's surprised look from the corner of his eye and gave a satisfied smile as the leader joined in the small mob.

"You didn't ask me for those," Leonardo glared as he now stood on Raphael's right side and fell in step with his brothers.

Desperately, Michelangelo looked to his father for salvation but saw no sympathy in Splinter's look. Hesitantly, he took another step back, realizing he was precariously close to the water's edge and clutched tightly to his copy of The Silver Sentry #1.

Not being stopped, the gang of three continued with their intimidation tactics. Had it been any other situation, Splinter would have made an effort to stop the small angry mob. But, the fatherly rat knew that all other tries of getting the youngest to ask permission before removing or using items that belonged to his brothers had failed. It seemed to him that the only one's who would be able to show Michelangelo the error of his ways, were his brothers. It looked as if it might be working.

"Stay out of our stuff!" Leonardo charged as Donatello poked Michelangelo hard in the plastron one last time.

The youngest teetered on the edge of the pond, arms flailing about as he tried to maintain his balance but it didn't work. Leaning in with the meanest look that he could, Raphael let out a quiet little 'Boo.' It was just enough and Michelangelo fell back into the dark and cold water, Leonardo snatching the youngest's precious comic just before he fell in.

Sputtering and gasping for breath, Michelangelo climbed out of the water and onto the edge of the pool. Shaking the water from his body, he removed his mask and squeezed out the moisture. The now wet turtle gave it a questioning look, trying to decide if he really wanted to reapply the soggy piece of cloth. Angrily, he tucked the orange strip in his belt and held an expectant hand out to Leonardo but did not receive his comic.

What surprised him was that Master Splinter took the comic from Leonardo. "Michelangelo," the fatherly rat started. "You seem to have forgotten how important it is to ask for permission before using your brother's personal items. As such," he gave a glare that silenced the opposing cries from the youngest of the turtles. "…I will hold your comic book for one month," he stressed and placed the book into the fold of his robe. "If, after that time, you have proven that you can be considerate of your brothers property and not treat it like your own, I will return your book to you."

"And the three of you," Splinter turned and gave a glare to his other three sons who were busy laughing at Michelangelo's predicament. "If your brother asks politely to borrow or use an item of yours, you are to lend it to him," he stressed amid the moans and groans of the three turtles. Satisfied that the situation had been dealt with, Splinter returned to his room to finish his meditation.

"Thanks a lot you guys," Michelangelo muttered as he stomped his way to his room leaving his brothers to do nothing but shrug their shoulders to each other.

"Serves him right," Raphael muttered as he looked back at Donatello and Leonardo.

"Yeah but it doesn't solve the current problem," Donatello answered and saw the questioning looks on both Leonardo's and Raphael's face. "I still don't have any blank DVD's to use and I only have an hour and half left on the one that's in there. And April and Casey are out of town at some big antique fair in Massachusetts so there isn't anyone to pick up more." Quietly, the trio stood there and tried to figure out a possible solution. Without a word, Michelangelo walked out of his room and into the kitchen. Five minutes later, the orange clad turtle walked back out of the kitchen and headed to his room, bowl of popcorn and soda in hand.

"Hey Mikey," Raphael yelled to his little brother. "It's already five o'clock. When are you going to start dinner?"

"When I get my comic back," Michelangelo yelled as he continued walking to his room, the door slamming behind him.

"You guys figure out what we're doing for dinner," Donatello answered as he headed back to his lab. "I'll try to come up with another idea for the security cameras."

"Can you cook?" Raphael asked Leonardo.

"Not unless you want the entire lair to explode," the leader answered. "What about you?"

"Only if you feel like eating microwavable meals for a month."

Leonardo sighed. "I hate the idea of it, but we might have to sneak into a store after it closes and get the necessary items. We'll leave money of course but breaking and entering is not my favorite thing to do." Scratching his head, he went to go see Donatello.

Watching his brother walk away, Raphael pulled his cell phone out and turned his attention to it. Taking in a breath, he opened it up and made a phone call. "Hey, Angie?"

"I'm okay, how are you?" The large turtle let out a chuckle as Angie told him about one of her professors at the local college. "Listen Angie," Raphael interrupted her. "I was wondering if you could do something for me…"

After speaking with Donatello and telling him about the possibility of having to sneak into electronics store after hours, Leonardo came back into the living area and the end of Raphael's phone conversation.

"Alright," he heard Raphael speak into his cell, slightly agitated. "You win," and the large turtle walked off, his voice disappearing along with him as he headed down the hall. Shrugging his shoulders, Leonardo sat down on the couch and turned on the afternoon news, wondering if maybe they should just order pizza for dinner, even though they had had it the previous night. He decided to wait and give it another hour. Michelangelo would surely be hungry by then and would have calmed down enough to make dinner for everyone.

It was almost six o'clock when Raphael walked out of his room, a clean pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt on, minus the chocolate milk stains. Hurriedly, the large turtle made his way past the couch and toward the elevator. "Be right back," he answered the strange stares from Donatello, Leonardo, and Splinter.

The large turtle stood in the center of the street level warehouse. Shielding his eyes from the light of the headlamps of the jeep that pulled up, he pushed a button on the side wall to his left and closed the garage door. A bit perturbed at being coerced into the whole situation, he stood with his arms folded as the driver happily jumped out.

"Hola Raphael!" Angie blurted out as she jumped out and turned her back to the large turtle. She wasn't even aware of his stern look as she began lifting bags out of the back seat and continued talking. "I almost got lost on my way here. So what do you think of my new camion? The insurance company sent a tow truck over to get my car and it was totally stripped so mi tio said I could have whatever I wanted. I decided for something different." Still talking excitedly, Angie turned around, bags in hand and stared at Raphael quizzically. "es algo incorrecto?"

Raphael was still standing there, arms folded and a scowl starting to emerge on his face. It made Angie a bit nervous as she stared at him and she put the bags down as she stepped closer. "You look mad."

"I don't like being forced into things Angie," he grumbled as he watched the young girl nervously shove her hands into the pockets of her denim jeans. "I've had enough of people playing mind games with me at the station. I don't need it here."

"I'm…I'm sorry," Angie stammered. "I didn't mean to…."

"Never mind," Raphael gave a huff as he picked up the two large white shopping bags and headed for the elevator. He stopped when he heard a sniffle behind him. Rolling his eyes, he turned to around and saw what he expected. Angie was standing there, tears starting to drip down her cheeks. "What?" he asked expectantly.

Angie tried to answer but instead only managed to get out a squeak. Embarrassed, she turned around and started to walk back to her vehicle. She only stopped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Would you stop crying please?"

"I can't help it," Angie muttered as she wiped her eyes and tried to calm down. "I finally get a decent boyfriend and I go and screw everything up."

"Boyfriend?" Raphael asked as he grasped Angie's shoulders, turning her around and making her look him in the eye.

Angie's cheeks became flushed as she realized he didn't know what she was talking about, that he didn't view the two of them the same way she did. "I… it's just…" she stuttered. "Oh God," she finally let out as she covered her face with her hands, embarrassed.

"It's okay," Raphael's voice finally softened and he gently pulled her hands from her face. "I like the sound of that."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he nodded and leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Are you still mad at me?" Angie asked as she straightened out her black and white striped t-shirt.

"Look," Raphael stepped back and tried to think of how to explain things to her. "My life before wasn't so great okay and I don't feel like relieving any of it. If you want to know something about me or my family, just ask. Don't try to trick me or force me into things, okay?"

"Okay," Angie smiled. "Estoy apesadumbrado." More at ease, she stepped over and grabbed one of the bags, joining Raphael at his side. "So if I want to know anything at all about you, I ask it and you'll tell me?"

"Maybe," Raphael looked at her smiling face and shrugged his shoulder. "Some stuff I just don't want to talk about, 'kay?

"Okay."

A moment later, the elevator came back down and Raphael stepped out, two large white bags in his hands. What really surprised everyone was when Angie stepped out behind him, a smaller plastic bag in her hand.

"Raphael," Splinter began as he paced back and forth in front of his son, now kneeling on the floor of the ninja master's private room. "I must say that I am somewhat upset by your actions. The only way we have managed to survive is because of secrecy, we cannot give out our location to everyone we know."

"I know that," Raphael began, his hands out as he looked at his father. "Angie isn't going to say anything about us to anyone, I trust her."

"That may be my son, but if you are going to invite a human into our home, it would be best if you check with the rest of us first." Splinter was going to continue with a lecture but was stopped by a timid knock on the frame of his door.

Slowly, the door slid open a crack, revealing a pair of dark brown eyes peeking in, checking to see if it was safe to enter. Smiling, Splinter motioned with his hand for Angie to enter.

"Master Splinter?" Angie walked in and bowed, remembering what Raphael had told her. She kneeled down on the floor by Raphael and gripped his hand out of nervousness. "It wasn't Raphael's fault."

"Please explain," Splinter looked at her as he sat down across from the pair.

"He called me and asked if I would pick up the things Donnie needed. At first, he was just going to come by my place and pick them up but," she swallowed nervously, feeling guilty for her actions. "I told him I would only do it if he told me where he lived so I could bring them by."

"And why is that?"

"I…he told me about all of you the other night and," she squeezed harder on Raphael's hand and stared at the floor. "I know it was wrong of me to trick him into it but I really wanted to meet all of you. I'm sorry," she whispered as continued looking at the mat she was kneeling on.

It was quiet for a moment and the silence made Angie nervous. Bravely she looked up as she brushed her hair from her eyes. Surprising, Splinter was smiling at her.

"Apology accepted child," the old rat nodded. "Has Raphael also told you of the importance of secrecy to ensure out survival?"

"Yes sir," she answered, a little more comfortable now.

"Very well," Splinter stood up and walked to the door. "Then I trust you will keep our secret." Pulling the door open, he waited for Raphael and Angie walked out with him.

Dinner passed with a relative amount of comfortableness. Michelangelo at first refused to eat with his family, still mad at them. But Splinter informed him that they had a guest and it would be rude for the youngest to stay in his room. Reluctantly, he came out but Angie's cheerful personality soon had him talking and forgetting about the events of the day. Of course, his words to his brother's were fairly limited. The only snags in the dinner conversation came when Angie would be talking and throw a few Spanish words into her sentences. She would then have to go back and restate them in English for the confused faces. Several times Raphael could be heard muttering something about Spanglish. Dinner over, Michelangelo volunteered to give Angie a tour of the lair. Quickly, he grabbed the girl's hand and led her out of the kitchen, Raphael not far behind and growling to himself, leaving Donatello and Leonardo to clean up after dinner.

"And this," Michelangelo gave a dramatic wave of his hand. "…is where we train." He smiled at Angie as she looked around the large room with awe, various weapons hanging on the walls, punching bag in the corner, along with other training tools. "Of course," Michelangelo continued. "…I have mastered pretty much all of these weapons; my brothers are far behind me in skill."

Raphael growled at his brother's obvious attempts to impress Angie.

"Which ones do you like the best?" Angie asked Michelangelo.

"The nunchuks of course," he answered her with a large smile. "Want to see a demonstration?" he asked not even waiting on an answer. Quickly he pulled his weapons out and began moving them about, going through a difficult kata he was sure would impress the girl.

Raphael silently walked around his brother so he was now standing behind him. Michelangelo was so busy trying to impress Angie that he became a bit careless. Not even focusing on his brother, he didn't see it coming when Raphael jumped in with two short scrimmage sticks. It wasn't long before the loud 'clack' of wood on wood and the two opposing 'ki-yah's' called the attention of the rest of the family.

Donatello, Leonardo, Splinter and Angie all watched as Michelangelo advanced on Raphael, his nunchuks repeatedly coming forward and causing the larger turtle to back up. Raphael blocked each of Michelangelo's repeated attacks, swinging the scrimmage sticks upwards in a continuous rhythm. Finally, the orange banded turtle aggressively swung both of his weapons towards his larger brother. Quickly, Raphael thrust both scrimmage sticks up in an X formation, catching to the two nunchuks in the vertex of the wooden sticks. With a flick of his wrists, Raphael tangled the chain that joined Michelangelo's two weapons together and moved his hands to grab his brother's wrists. In one swift motion, he pulled his smaller brother forward. Rolling on his back, Raphael flipped Michelangelo over and continued his movement so he was now standing over the orange banded turtle's body in a defensive stance. The two only looked up when applause was heard coming from the side.

"That was incredible!" Angie pronounced as she moved over, Splinter, Leonardo and Donatello a step behind.

"Gracias!" Michelangelo gave a dramatic bow. "Soy bastante grande," he answered smugly.

"Oh, usted habla español también? ¡Eso es maravilloso! ¿Usted y Raphael aprendieron juntos?" Angie looked at Michelangelo and waited expectantly for an answer.

"Umm…." The youngest of the turtles nervously looked side to side, trying to figure out what she said to him.

"He's only just started learning," Raphael answered after the moment of silence. "Grande my butt," he muttered as he walked over to put the scrimmage sticks away.

"Very well done my sons," Splinter spoke out. "Michelangelo you are becoming much more aggressive which is good, but do not rely on aggression alone. You're ability to antagonize and play with your opponent is an advantage for you. Raphael," he turned to the tallest of the turtles. "You are becoming much more patient and methodical in your fighting skills. It was most impressive."

Automatically, both brothers gave a respectful bow and said thank you.

"Now then," splinter continued. "Michelangelo, you brother paid for dinner and Leonardo and Donatello set and cleared the table. I believe that leaves the dishes for you."

Grudgingly, Michelangelo left for the kitchen leaving the rest of his family in the dojo.

"It's amazing that you guys have been living down here for so long and no one knows," Angie observed as she walked out of the room with everyone else.

"We would like to keep it that way," Leonardo stated, giving her a serious glare.

"Don't worry Leo," Raphael grumbled. "She already knows that." He gave a disgusted glare at his grey t, noticing the sweat that had built up on it.

"Hey Raph," Donatello spoke up as he noticed his brother's appearance. "Why don't you go clean up, I'll finish showing Angie around."

Giving a nod of thanks, Raphael headed up the stairs to his room.


	11. Chapter 11

Retribution Chapter 11

"_Okay kid," Jake's voice came over the headset "You set down there?"_

"_I'm good Jake," the young mutant replied. At 13 years old, M had already been on many missions with his handler. And tonight was no different. "Inside and ready to go."_

"_Good," the human replied from his perch on the next foothill, looking through his binoculars. "I got a visual. The guards are gathered at the front of the main building, smoking cigarettes. You got 20 minutes and then I blow the lab so no playing around with the guards this time. Take care of business first and we'll go have some fun later," he waited a second to see if his charge was going to argue with him but the young mutant said nothing. "I'll meet you at the rendezvous point in an hour. No more contact till then."_

"_Affirmative," was the reply. "I'm out"_

_In 20 minutes time, one of the largest cocaine labs in Columbia, masquerading as a coffee factory, was reduced to rubble. M was at the rendezvous point, waiting on Jake, without a scratch._

"Where are you going?" Leonardo asked. He, Donatello, and Michelangelo were in the dojo preparing for a night of patrol. They had been waiting for Raphael but he had yet to show. Instead, Leonardo caught a glimpse of him as he tried to sneak out without being noticed. Raphael sighed. He had somewhere he had to be and didn't have time to explain things.

"Well," Leonardo asked expectantly.

"I got something I have to take care of," Raphael answered as he walked towards the exit. "I'll catch up with you guys when I'm done."

"What are you talking about?" Leonardo stared at his brother in disbelief. "It's Saturday night. You're supposed to be going on patrol with us, remember?"

"I have business to handle first Leo. I'll catch up with you guys for some fun when I'm through," and with that, the largest of the mutants headed up to street level via the elevator.

Leonardo sighed and returned to the dojo, shaking his head and grinding his teeth in aggravation.

"Where's Raph," Michelangelo asked as he sat on the floor, his legs in a full on split.

Leonardo just looked at his brothers. "He'll be joining us later," he muttered.

A single figure crept through the night and paused at a key pad in front of a doorway. Quietly, the person in black slid a card with a magnetic strip through a key pad. Wires attached to the card led down to a small lap top, a series of numbers appeared on the screen as they dialed down to only 5, single digits. Smiling, Raphael punched in the series of numbers displayed on his screen and waltzed in as the thick, plexiglass door to the walk in vault slid open. Looking around, he found the painting Santini had specified and checked to make sure there were no other safety precautions attached to it. Quickly, he popped the outlying frame off. With a pair of pliers, he made quick work of the small staples that held the canvas to its wood frame. Without hesitation, he rolled it up and slid it into a tube, leaving only an empty frame behind.

"Well done Raphael," Santini praised as he eyed the oil painting in his hands. "I have been missing this piece to my collection." Smugly, he turned around and eyed the turtle that was clad in black. "I told Williams that if he didn't pay in full I would reclaim my property."

Raphael smiled as Santini slid an envelope across the table to him. "Thank you sir," he answered emphatically. "It's a pleasure doing business with you." With that, he tipped the envelope to the man as if he were tipping his hat and then slid his payment inside his jacket pocket and left the building.

As he exited, he saw a familiar silhouette walking out the back door of the club.

"Blech!" Angie declared as she threw a bag of garbage into the large bin. "That guy better not come back," she declared as she brushed her hands off on her apron. Immediately she found herself somewhat shaken as a figure had her pinned up against the brick wall at the back of the parking lot.

Raphael placed a hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming. "It's just me," he whispered softly.

"Raphael," she answered as she tried to catch her breath. "You nearly scared me to death," and she poked him in the chest with her finger. "Bad Tortuga!"

Raphael grinned, grabbed her hands and held them over her head up against the wall. He chuckled as he rubbed his beak up against her neck. "Who do I need to beat up?" he muttered, placing soft kisses just below her left ear. Her breathing had slowed down as she began to relax. He let go of her hands and she let them fall behind his neck.

"Mmmmmmm…..no one," Angie answered as she felt his lips move across her jaw line, his hands gripping at her waist. He continued kissing her as she tried to finish her explanation. "Some drunk… puked….on me…mi perro…thre…..threw him…..out."

"What was in the bag?" Raphael had made his way to the other side of her neck, one hand had managed to snake its way down and was holding to her buttocks.

"My dirty clothes," and she giggled as he squeezed on her left butt cheek. "Stop!" squealed. "Someone might see us."

"Okay, okay," he whispered and stepped back so she could straighten her clothes out. "Call me when you get up tomorrow and we'll take the bike out for the day." Quickly he leaned in and gave her a quick kiss to the lips with a 'see you tomorrow' whispered in her ear, and he was gone.

Leonardo sighed. It had been a busy night to say the least. His brother's and he had gotten used to the extra power in having Raphael along but tonight, he was absent and it was taking a toll on the remaining three. The leader shook his head. It was his fault for allowing his team to become complacent. That was something he planned to remedy, especially if they couldn't count on Raphael to be with them when he was supposed to.

"Hey guys," a voice whispered from the back. Leonardo growled. He turned around to see Raphael standing nonchalantly, pulling back on his pistol to advance a round and then placing it back in its holster on his side.

"Hey Raph," Michelangelo whispered loudly as he walked over and bumped fists with his larger brother. "Que pasa?"

"Not much," he grinned and pulled his back pack off and placed the aforementioned envelope in it. "I miss anything interesting?"

"We ran into a few purple dragons," Donatello said as he walked over to the two, a sigh escaping his lips.

"You okay?"Raphael asked a curious expression on his face.

"…we just could have used you is all, " Donatello told his larger brother.

"Don't sweat it Donnie," Raphael walked back over with his two brothers to Leonardo. "You guys are fine and besides," he shrugged his shoulders and looked over. "If I believed you guys really needed me, I would have been here. I knew the three of you would be fine without me."

There was a glare from Leonardo and roll of the eyes from the other two. Raphael looked up and let out a breath. He knew his brother's had a right to be angry with him. It wasn't like he had told them before hand he was going to be late. But, on the other hand, it was his life and he was going to do what he wanted to with it. Especially since there wasn't anyone around to control him anymore. "What?"

"Something's up with the Dragons," Leonardo finally spoke up. "There are more of them tonight than we've seen in a long while." Folding his arms and staring straight ahead at Raphael he continued. "The three of us went up against 16 a few minutes ago."

"Hey nice!" Raphael looked over at his Michelangelo and Donatello. "You guys kicked some serious butt huh?" And he slapped Michelangelo on the shell, a little too hard. The youngest stumbled forward.

"they've become a lot braver Raph," Donatello continued the conversation. "They just take what they want, in plain sight. And," he paused, pointing a finger at Raphael. "They aren't going for little stuff anymore. We caught them robbing a high end jewelry store."

"yeah," Michelangelo reiterated. "Leo thinks they want the expensive stuff to fence for something else. And chances are if it involves the Dragons, it involves the Foot."

"Well then," Raphael smiled and eyed Leonardo. "what are we standing around this alleyway for? Let's go find some dragons."

With that, Leonardo led his team across the rooftops.

It didn't take long before the alarm of a bank went off, Dragons spilling out into the street, bags in hand. Immediately, the four turtles jumped into the fray. The dragons tossed their pillage into a waiting truck that sped away, leaving the would be robbers behind, weapons out.

"Mike!" Raphael yelled, "behind you!" Raphael pushed back on the dragon that came forward. As the thug backed up, Raphael grabbed the teenager by the neck and flipped him over, knocking him out.

At the sound of his brothers warning Michelangelo spun around to see a dragon coming at him wielding a machete. Swinging the blade side to side in an X formation, the large assailant jumped at the mutant turtle, forcing Michelangelo back. Stepping back, Michelangelo tried to find room to gain advantage. In a hurry, he stepped further away without looking at his surroundings. Slipping on a broken piece of a glass bottle, he sliced the bottom of his foot and fell back. Swiftly, he jumped back up and balanced on his good foot, swinging his nunchuks at the dragon, doing his best to keep the machete wielding villain away.

Leonardo and Donatello were at the other end of the alleyway, working on 5 more dragons. They were almost through and had only two left when Leonardo spared a quick glance at his two brothers. "Raph!" Leonardo called out. "Help Mike!"

Raphael finished off his two victims and turned to once more check on his little brother. He looked in time to see Michelangelo fall once more onto the ground, swinging his nunchuks as the human came down, his large blade aimed directly at Michelangelo's chest.

Without hesitation, Raphael pulled out his pistol and fired, 3 times, at his brother's attacker. The Purple Dragon fell back, dead.


	12. Chapter 12

Retribution chapter 12

Several pairs of feet hurriedly sloshed through the trash strewn sewers as they tried to make it back to the lair as quickly as possible. Michelangelo's foot had a serious cut and gash in it. It wasn't life threatening, but, the sight of his own blood had him a bit apprehensive. The youngest of the turtles tried his best to stay alert but he was starting to feel nauseas and somewhat dizzy.

Again, Raphael turned around to check on his little brother and noticed Michelangelo's eyes were only halfway open. "This is taking too long," Raphael stated impatiently.

Donatello and Leonardo paid him no mind as they each supported Michelangelo's shoulders, helping him 'walk' back, making sure his injured foot didn't fall into the dirty sewer water.

Looking up to see how much further they had to go, Donatello saw Raphael coming back at him, taking his backpack off.

"Here," he shoved it at Donatello's free hand. "Give him to me." Quickly Raphael grabbed a groggy Michelangelo and hoisted him up on his back.

"Whu..?" was all that Michelangelo could manage to speak, his drooping eyes only letting him see a small portion of what happening.

"Piggyback Mike," Raphael answered as he used one hand to grip his brother arms and the other supporting Michelangelo under his hips. "Just like when we were kids."

"Ok Raph," the injured turtle rested his head on his big brother's back. "Giddyup."

Running as fast as he could, Raphael made his way back to the lair, Leonardo staying with him all the way, Donatello ran ahead to get prepared.

After cleaning and sterilizing Michelangelo's wound, Donatello stitched a portion of it up, leaving a portion of it open. It was too deep to stitch up. The family doctor was afraid of trapping in bacteria or an air pocket. He thought it best to let it close up slowly.

"How's he doing," Leonardo asked as he leaned against the outer door to the infirmary. He followed Donatello and Master Splinter as they walked into the living room area.

"He will be fine," Splinter answered he sat in his recliner. "He is resting for now but," and he turned towards Donatello. "Donatello took very good care of your brother. I believe he will be bouncing of the walls in no time."

Donatello blushed at his father's praise. "That's only if he stays off his feet for awhile," he added.

"Yeah like that will happen," Raphael chimed in as he sauntered down the stairs. "He can't even sit through a commercial break," he chuckled as he plopped down on the couch, his feet resting on the coffee table. " He looked to his left at his younger brother, " I gotta hand it to ya Donnie, I think we'd all be a little worse for wear if it weren't for you." Smiling, he took a sip from the brown bottle in his hand.

Leonardo peered across the table from another chair to Raphael's right. "What are you drinking?" he asked curiously.

"Beer," Raphael replied simply.

"You're drinking a beer," Leonardo repeated simply, somewhat shocked. "Really?"

"What?" Raphael looked at family as they stared him with disbelieving looks on their faces. "Did you guys want one? 'Cause I got more in my fridge," he pointed up the stairs to his room.

"Ummmm….no," Donatello answered flatly. "Why are you drinking that stuff?"

Raphael turned to see the strange looks from his brothers and one disapproving glare from his father. "Cause…..I felt like it?"

Splinter sighed and shook his head. He knew that adjustments were not going to be easy but some things were playing with his patience. "Raphael," he spoke. "Alcohol is the same as a drug. It can cause great harm to your body."

Raphael sighed. He should have known better than to bring this downstairs. "This is the first one I've had in over a week, I know my limit," he pointed a finger at his father. "And, it's not exactly like I've never had one before. Besides," he paused and looked at his father. "You keep sake in your room. How is that any different?"

Leonardo felt his muscles tense. How dare Raphael question his teacher? This was his father, their father! Splinter deserved their respect.

"A legitimate question Raphael," Splinter continued, bowing his head in acknowledgement. "The sake that I keep is for traditional and medicinal purposes only," he folded his paws and looked over. "What purpose does your drink serve?"

"None," the large turtle answered and promptly tipped the bottle back and finished it off with a large swallow. "But," he stood up and stretched. "Since you guys are obviously not happy with it, I'll throw the bottle away." Promptly he went into the kitchen and threw the glass container in the garbage and then walked into the infirmary to check on Michelangelo.

"Master Splinter?" Donatello looked at his father. He didn't have a question really, he just shrugged his shoulders and looked over at the makeshift medical area and then back to his brother and teacher.

Leonardo shut his eyes and expelled his breath slowly, trying to ease the tension building up in his head.

Splinter noticed the actions of his two sons and looked at both of them with an air of seriousness. "What is it that truly troubles you my sons?"

The next morning found Raphael waking up at little after 10:30.

"H'lo?" he answered groggily into the phone "Hey Angie," he continued after he heard her voice. "No it's okay, I needed to get up. Just wear comfortable shoes and clothes okay?" He rolled his eyes as she began rattling off the different types of shoes she owned, way too many as far as he was concerned, leaning on his left arm, he shook his head in disbelief. With a slight huff, he decided it would be best to be more specific. "Hiking Angie. That's the only clue you get." With a yawn and a stretch he crawled out of bed and into the shower. After cleaning up, he donned a red t-shirt and a pair of jeans with some sneakers. He did notice the shirt was a bit snug but paid it no mind and simply chalked the tightness of the shirt up to leaving it in the dryer for too long or even added muscle from working out.

On his way out the door, he spotted Michelangelo sitting on the couch, his injured foot propped up on a pillow at the other end. "Hey kid," Raphael crossed his arms and leaned on the back of the furniture. "How're you feeling?" Raphael stared at the TV screen to see what his brother was watching.

"Good thanks," Michelangelo looked over and smiled at his brother. "Where are you headed?"

"Angie and I are going to take the bike out for the day," Raphael looked over. "Why?" he noticed a drop in his brother's smile. "Something wrong?"

"Oh, well," Michelangelo paused. "I was gonna ask if you wanted to hang out today and play some video games or something." Sheepishly the youngest pointed to his injured foot. "I don't think I'm going to be doing much of anything else really."

"Sorry kid," Raphael said with a sympathetic tone. "I already made plans with Angie," and he saw the somewhat dejected look on Michelangelo's face. "But, tomorrow," and the youngest perked up. "I'll hang with you all day if you want."

"Sweet," came Michelangelo's reply. "Sounds like fun."

With a quick squeeze to his brother's shoulder, Raphael headed to the door. "Hey," he called back. "Tell Leo I'm out but," and he rolled his eyes, "I'll keep my phone on if he wants to check up on me."

"Cool bro'" Michelangelo waved. "What time should I tell him you'll be back?"

"Sometime around 10:30 at the latest." And with a quick wave goodbye, Raphael entered the elevator and ascended to the surface to pick up Angie.

Several hours later…

"Seriously Tortuga," Angie giggled as she leaned on her right side and stared at the large turtle next to her. He was stretched out on the blanket in a red t shirt and jeans. His shoes were sitting nearby his now bare feet. "This place is beautiful. What made you think of coming here?" Angie turned, leaned on her elbows and looked at the inviting body of water in front of her. They were sitting on a blanket in the midst of shade trees only a little ways from the large lake, maybe 30 feet. A small river feeding into the body of water was only 20 feet to their left. It was Sunday and the middle of September. Most people were at home getting ready for the upcoming week of work and/or school. It was as if they had the whole place to themselves.

Raphael was leaned back, his head resting on his left hand, his right moving about as he talked. "Jake used to bring me out here for 'survival' training." He looked over at her, "There's 6 million plus acres here," he explained. "I thought we could actually go outside somewhere and not worry about me being seen."

Angie let out a sigh along with a smile. Raphael gave her a good look. She was in denim shorts, a comfortable pair of sneakers and grey t shirt. Her hair was simply pulled back into a pony tail with her bangs tucked behind her left ear. Eagerly, she kicked her shoes off and joined the large turtle that was stretched out enjoying the sun.

"I've got some drinks and snacks in my backpack if you want," he pointed behind them. He had originally packed a few things in a small red cooler but there was an issue of space. His bike definitely was not made for carrying anything more than two people at most. In the end, a few water bottles and packets of trail mix were stashed in the black bag. He considered the idea of giving Casey some cash to go buy a vehicle but that would mean letting others in on his wealth. Maybe he would just wait on Jake and Caitlin to get back, they could go instead.

Angie leaned over and grabbed the back pack. She unzipped the wide mouth of the bag and found a small, square white box with a red ribbon. Her name was written on a small tag attached to the ribbon. "What's this?" she held up the package.

Raphael chuckled. He put it in there on purpose so she would find it. "It's for you," he shrugged. "Open it," he told her with a playful grin, his eye ridges wriggling up and down.

Smiling, Angie pulled at the ends of the ribbon and removed the lid to the box. Inside was a necklace made of white gold with a small turtle attached, also made of the same material. A bright emerald was placed in the center of its shell. "It's beautiful," she whispered. Quickly she pulled her pony tail out of the way and clasped the necklace behind her neck. "How does it look?" she asked with a smile on her face, leaning forward to show the large turtle.

Raphael rolled over on his left and stared at her for a moment. "Perfect," he answered, looking her in the eye. With a quick movement, he reached out with his right arm and pulled Angie over, she squealed as he did so. He was lying on his back, Angie on his plastron, smiling at her as he pulled her into a deep kiss.

(at the lair)

Splinter sighed and rubbed at the headache that was developing. He mentally chastised himself for believing that Raphael's return would occur without any problems. It was wishful thinking his part and he knew better but had previously refused to see it.

The fatherly rat recalled his conversation with Donatello and Leonardo the night before. Both turtles were equally frustrated with Raphael's absence during the first part of their patrol and when he did finally show up, his attitude showed no sympathy for his brothers or seriousness of why the turtles were even out. But the gun, Splinter shook his head. He knew that Raphael had shot the Purple Dragon to prevent him from killing the youngest of the four. He was grateful that Michelangelo was safe that much was certain, but firearms were never a part of their life. In fact, if anything, a gun was seen as a less than honorable weapon. And then there was the alcohol, and, again, Raphael's attitude. The larger turtle may not have intended to sound rude or disrespectful but it most definitely came across as such.

Splinter tried to give Raphael a little space and reminded his brothers that Raphael was raised in a completely different environment, but last night, he shook his head and sighed once more. Raphael's brothers were doing as he asked but Raphael was making no effort to respect their ideals. Respect was a two way street but it seemed that one member of his family had forgotten that. Splinter grasped his cane and thought out loud as he stood up, "No one said parenting would be easy, but a manual would have been nice."

The large turtle was poised over Angie, his was nipping at her neck and his hand at the ready by the edge of her lace panties. He thought he was ready to go this far, but the knot in his stomach was stopping him.

"Raph?" Angie questioned as he suddenly moved away from her and sat off to the side. He was at the edge of the blanket, his legs pulled up and his arms resting on his knees and his pants still unbuckled. His head was hanging down, embarrassed.

"Did I do something wrong," and she slid over to him, pulling her bra straps back up and over her shoulders.

He spared her a quick glance and then turned his attention back to the ground. "No," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"I don't understand," she said as she sat next to him and placed her hand on his back. "the way things have been going these past few weeks, I thought you wanted to have sex with me."

"I do," he answered quietly. "It's just," and he looked over at Angie. She was so patient with him and he was getting more and more frustrated with himself. With a low growl he turned back around and punched the dirt.

Angie sighed but then a thought occurred to her. "Raph?" Quickly she scooted closer so she was right against him and then put Raphael's arm over her shoulders. "Have you ever been with a girl before?" she asked as she stared out at the lake.

"Yeah," Raphael answered as he stared out at the lake. His hand rubbed lightly at her left arm.

"what was her name?"

"Mai."

"Did you love her?"

That question took him by surprise as he had never thought about how he felt when he was with Mai. "Maybe," he gave Angie a weak smile. "I really don't know."

"How come you're not with her now?" and Angie snuggled closer into him.

"She…" and he cleared his throat, surprised that his voice cracked a little. "A little over a year ago, she died. " The large turtle returned to staring at the lake in front of him. He gripped tightly to the corner of the blanket and tried to control his emotions. After holding his breath for a moment he let it out and tried to relax. Maybe I just need a little more time," and he leaned his head on Angie's. "Maybe we could wait a while?"

Angie answered him with a quiet 'you bet' and a quick squeeze around his waist. He smiled and kissed her head.

"So," he asked, relaxing a little. "You ever been with a guy?"

"Yes," Angie answered him. "Unfortunately," she answered with a disappointed tone.

Raphael's head snapped to the side with a look of surprise. "What do you mean?"

With a small huff, Angie answered his question. "He was a real jerk," and she nuzzled into the large turtle a little more. "Once it was over," she shrugged her shoulders. "He said thanks for the good time and left. The way he acted around me before we did it, I thought he really cared, you know?" she looked up at Raphael. "All he wanted was to sleep with me. Once he got what he wanted, he wouldn't even talk to me, just acted like I was nothing."

"Asshole," Raphael muttered.

"No kidding," Angie stated. "And you know the worst part?" she looked up at Raphael as he shook his head 'no.'

"He started a rumor about me," she let out a little sniffle. "He had the whole school thinking I was a slut but it was my first time." She squeezed Raphael as he hugged her tight. "I ended up going to a private school after that."

"Is he still around," the large turtle asked. He twisted around to his left and picked Angie up, placing her in his lap, wrapping his arms around her. "Because if he is," and he wriggled his eye ridges. "I can go beat him up for ya."

Angie giggled and kissed him on the cheek. "No it's okay," she smiled. "He had the nerve to show up at the club and mi perro had a little chat with him."

"Uh huh," Raphael chuckled. With a little nudge of his forehead to her chin he continued their conversation. "Did you like the private school?"

"Yeah actually," she admitted and giggled at his actions. "I had some learning disabilities, what with my mom being on drugs while pregnant," and Angie shrugged her shoulders. "I got the extra help I needed and graduated high school. Sadly," she sighed. "My uncle doesn't agree with my choice for a major in college."

"What," Raphael looked her in the eye. "Dance?"

"Yeah," she admitted. "He thinks I should do something more applicable." Angie laced her hands together at the back of his neck. "So I'm taking some classes for accounting."

"Boring," Raphael remarked.

"Nah, I like it," Angie smiled. "Math is easy for me, literature," she stressed. " Is hard. "I figure if I take the accounting classes it will help with what I want to do later."

"And what is that?"

"I always thought it would be fun to have a dance studio," she admitted. "I could do that for a living." Angie kissed his cheek. "Teaching others how much fun it is to dance and maybe helping a kid recognize how talented they are with ballet or another style…." She trailed off as she thought. "Anyway," she shrugged her shoulders. "Both myself and mi tio would be happy so it's a win-win," and she smiled wide at Raphael. "So what would you be if you were able to choose a career?"

"Don't know," he answered simply as he looked down. "It was never an option so I never thought about it. But," Raphael paused. "I guess I might like law enforcement," he said flatly. "Doesn't matter anyway," the large turtle continued. "It's never going to happen so why even bother with it," he looked Angie in the eyes. "So, what now?"

"Hmmmmmm," Angie thought for a moment. She was enjoying the conversation and really wanted to stay where she was. "More questions," she told him with a smile. Raphael started to protest but she stopped him. "If you don't want to answer you can say, 'I plead the fifth."

"Alright," Raphael eyed her. "Shoot."

"Favorite childhood memory," she looked at him.

Raphael thought for a moment and smiled. "Running through the jungle, playing hide and sneak with Mai."

"don't you mean 'hide and seek?"

"Nah," Raphael grinned. "In our version, we tried to sneak up on each other or some other animal we saw. She lived on the edge of the rainforest," he told her when he noticed her confused expression. "Your turn," he said simply and threw out a question. "What's your favorite childhood memory?"

"Hmmmmmmmmm…" Angie thought out loud. "It's hard to pick." And she got quiet for a moment. "I know," she blurted out and her eyes got wide. "It was finding a letter my mom wrote me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Angie confirmed. "I was 15 and was cleaning my room," she explained. "It was taped to the inside of my closet wall."

"What did it say?"

"She said she was sorry that she left me but that she knew that leaving me was the best thing for me because she couldn't kick the drugs. But," Angie added. "I just really appreciated her saying that she loved me and stuff…." Her voice trailed off. "Your worst memory?"

"I plead the fifth," Raphael quickly replied. He decided to change the direction of the questions. "What is the most irritating thing in the world to you, your biggest pet peeve?"

"Ugh," she grunted. "People who open the door in a drive through. I mean, come on," Angie's hands moved about as she talked. "Either get the window fixed or go inside and order." And she looked at Raphael's face. "If you could do anything in the world you wanted, what would it be?"

Raphael glanced at Angie with a smile on his face. "Take you out to dinner," was his prompt answer. "What are you thinking about right now?"

Angie looked over at the river feeding into the lake. "Going swimming…..right now."

"What?" Raphael looked at her a little surprised. "We don't have swimsuits," he tried to explain to her. "Or towels to dry off with."

"Well," she began to explain as she got up. "I know for a fact that this," and pointed to her midsection. "Covers more than my swimsuits do," and she giggled as Raphael grinned wide. "And I happen to know you're wearing boxers so…" Angie paused for a moment as her boyfriend thought about her argument. "Are you game."

"Well," Raphael shrugged his shoulders and promptly stood up, his hands on the button of his jeans. "When in Rome." Quickly he removed his jeans to show his black boxers. He stared at Angie for a moment. With a flash, he picked her up, listening to her squeal and threw her over his shoulder. Running to the water, he ran in as fast as he could until he fell forward, Angie with him.


	13. Chapter 13

A pair of green feet moved across the tar covered rooftops of New York City. The body of the large turtle moved with such grace and silence that it seemed as if he never even touched the surface of the very buildings he was running across. Reaching his destination, the figure stopped and patiently crouched a behind brick ledge as he watched silently, waiting to see if anything should happen. He turned his head for a moment as he saw lightning flash in the distance behind him, a rolling thunder followed. Silently, he prayed for the storm to take the long way around.

After several hours of watching the foot tower, Leonardo sighed and stood up, stretching his stiff muscles. It had been several weeks and still the surveillance cameras showed nothing. The leader of the turtles was beginning to wonder if he wasn't paranoid about his enemies. Maybe the foot really had fallen to the way side, maybe they were no longer a threat. Catching a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye, Leonardo shifted his position. Maybe he was wrong.

He stared intently as a small truck pulled up to the back, bay doors and began to unload. Pulling a monocular from his belt, he looked the vehicle over, trying to find out where it came from and what it carried. "Great," he muttered to himself as he stood up and turned away. "A laundry truck. Three weeks of watching and waiting and all I get is a stupid truck full of someone's dirty sheets." Aggravated with himself, Leonardo decided to do a quick patrol around the city before he headed for home. Before he began his rounds, he took another quick look at his cell phone. He had left Raphael numerous messages but his brother had failed to call him back. When Leonardo checked in with his family at 10:45, Raphael was still not at home. "I'll be home by 10:30 at the latest," the eldest turtle said in a mocking fashion. "Sure you will." With a shake of his head in disbelief, Leonardo turned towards the main part of the city and started his patrol.

Raphael and Angie sat underneath an overpass and watched as a tumultuous rainstorm hit. He had moved up to an area where the lights were a bit dim. He had a ball cap on and his jacket with the collar turned up, trying to hide his green skin. Raphael stared intently at Angie as she carefully made her way down the cement incline to the bike, grabbed his back pack and made her way back over the railing. Smiling, Raphael took the bag from her and opened it up to pull out the last two water bottles and a couple packages of crackers. "What did your uncle say?" he asked as she plopped down next to him.

"He said thanks for checking in and wanted to know if he should send a car for us." she took a sip of her drink and leaned up against Raphael, a slight shiver to her movements. "I told him I would call him again in about 15 minutes and let him know if the rain slowed down any," she added, popping a cracker and cheese sandwich in her mouth. Absentmindedly, she passed one over to Raphael who popped it in his mouth.

"Angie," Raphael started to unzip his jacket. "Would you please put this on?" his words coming out airing his frustration. Angie's hand on his stopped him.

"No way Tortuga," she pointed at his face. "You and I both know you need to stay covered. I'll be fine," and she took another swallow of her water.

"Stubborn is what you are," Raphael shook his head as he swallowed some water to wash down his snack.

"No more than you," his girlfriend replied with a smile and he gave her one in return, squeezing her tight.

"Did you get your phone to work?"

"Sort of," he growled. "I can get it to turn on but the screen is so cracked I can't see a damn thing."

"I just don't understand how you don't remember your brother's phone numbers."

"I programmed them in my phone," he answered her with a bit of annoyance, "so I wouldn't have to remember any numbers."

Angie sighed and shook her head. "When you get another phone, give me their numbers and I'll make sure that they're listed on mine as well. That way," she continued. "You can get in touch with them no matter what."

The two sat in silence as they waited out the storm, Angie up against his side, Raphael's left arm holding her to him. It was another 20 minutes before the rain slowed down enough for the two to finish their ride home. With a bit of hesitancy, Angie donned Raphael's jacket so she wouldn't get wet as they drove through the rain. In reality, he refused to start the motorcycle up until she put it on.

It was after midnight when Leonardo made his way into the lair. He sighed as he exited the elevator and pulled his bandanna off his eyes and let it fall around his neck. Tired he rubbed his drooping eyelids and made his way into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. He was not surprised to find his father at the table, a cup of tea in hand.

"Evening sensei," Leonardo greeted as he pulled out a cup and filled it with the hot liquid still sitting on the stove top. That task done, he set about fixing himself a sandwich to appease his aching stomach.

"Good evening Leonardo," Splinter eyed his son over the rim of his cup. "Were you able to find anything new?"

With a bit of frustration, he plopped himself down into the chair sitting opposite his father.

"No," Leonardo sighed. "I'm starting to wonder if I'm not just being paranoid. Maybe I'm wrong and the foot really is gone." Slowly, he slouched down into his chair and took large a bite of his banana sandwich.

"Leonardo, why do you insist on maintaining a watch over the foot tower?"

"I don't know," the leader shrugged and took a sip of tea. "I just thought that there was something going on inside that we aren't aware of."

"And why is that?"

"Well, I guess if you think about it," he rubbed at his chin. "The foot has never gone down quietly and I don't think the loss of the Shredder would be something to silence them permanently. But," Leonardo took another sip of his tea. "It all boils down to a gut instinct I guess."

"Your instincts have yet to lead you astray my son," Splinter set his cup down and looked Leonardo in the eye while he ate. "And you are correct, the Foot has never been an entity to take defeat lightly. I believe your assumptions are will prove to be truth."

"Thanks sensei," Leonardo smiled and tossed the last bite of his snack in his mouth. With one final swallow, he washed it down. "Why are you up so late?"

Just as Splinter began to answer, the door to the elevators opening could be heard and a large figure tried hard to sneak by unsuccessfully.

"Raphael," Splinter called out sternly.

The largest of the turtles sighed heavily. Ready to get his lecture over with, he headed for the kitchen. Standing in the doorway of the dining area, he looked over at his father, it was obvious his clothes were wet.

Splinter jerked his head back in surprise, "You are soaked Raphael!" Quickly he got up and pulled a dishtowel out of the drawer and passed it over. "What happened?"

Raphael nodded thanks and began to wipe his arms down. "Angie and I got caught in a bad rainstorm outside of town and had to wait it out underneath an overpass. It finally eased up some so we headed back."

"Why did you not wear your jacket?" Splinter indicated to the large piece of leather in Raphael's other hand.

Quietly, he answered as he shrugged his shoulders. "Didn't want Angie to get wet."

"And you did not call because…" Splinter asked another question.

Raphael let out a long sigh and unzipped the front pocket of his bag, tossing the broken electronic device onto the table. "I was gonna call on Angie's phone but….." his voice trailed off.

Leonardo let out a chuckle as he glanced at his brother over his cup.

"What?"

"Nothing," Leonardo shrugged. "Just nice to know I'm not the only one who forgets phone numbers." With a slight grunt and a shake of his head, Leonardo stood up, placed his cup in the sink. He gave a quite goodnight to Splinter and quick pat on Raphael's shoulder. "We were worried. I'm glad you're both okay," he said and then walked up the stairs to his room.

Raphael stood there, waiting on a speech from his father. Splinter simply tilted his head to the side and looked back. A moment of silence passed before he spoke.

"Raphael," the ninja master began. "I have been waiting to speak with you about your recent…behavior."

The large turtle opened his mouth to protest but a raise of Splinter's paw stopped him. "However, you are cold, wet, and I am assuming… tired?" he questioned.

Raphael suddenly felt like he did when he was a child and got in trouble for breaking something. Raphael nodded 'yes.'

"Have you had anything to eat?"

He shoved his empty hand in his pocket and looked down, shaking his head 'no.'

"Very well then," Splinter continued. "Go take a warm shower and I will bring you something to eat," Splinter smiled. "We will talk in the morning when you are well rested."

Agreeing, Raphael took his back pack upstairs and soon found himself standing under the shower head as hot water drenched his skin and warmed his cold body.

Quietly, Splinter walked into Raphael's room, tray in hand. Looking around, and with a 'tch' he shook his head in disbelief. Piles of laundry on the floor, a stack of cd's in the corner and some scattered at the base of the small tower, along with a variety of other items strewn about, he chuckled. Raphael was definitely not the neat one in the bunch. Carefully he removed a few items from his sons bed stand and placed the tray of soup on the table along with a glass of milk. As quietly as the elderly rat had entered, he left and headed down the hallway. With a soft knock on the door, he entered Donatello's room.

Feeling much better after the hot shower, Raphael donned a pair of sweats and a t shirt. Seeing the bowl of chicken noodle soup waiting for him, he decided to forgo the spoon and simply tipped the bowl back sipping as much as he could. Thirsty, the large turtle took a swig of the milk and decided it wasn't what he wanted after a miserable end to his day. Setting the bowl back down on the tray, he opened the cabinet of his bedside table and pulled out a small tumbler and a bottle of scotch. Carefully, he poured himself a finger's worth, plucked a few ice cubes from the freezer and went back to gulping his soup down, finally using the spoon to scrape out the remaining noodles and bits of chicken.

Dinner finished, he rinsed the bowl in the bathroom sink and poured out the milk. Setting the tray on his bed side table he grabbed his backpack. Kneeling on the floor, he pulled out his large foot locker and opened it. His intention was to put his pistol back in the locked box but he stopped for a moment as a small item on the top tray caught his eye. Slowly falling into a seated position on the floor, he leaned on the bed for support and stared at the little moon shaped medallion he spotted. Picking it up, the large turtle absentmindedly rubbed his thumb over the front of it as he reminisced.

"_Happy Birthday M!" Mai exclaimed as she pulled out a small box from the pocket of her pink sundress. Her blue eyes shown with pride and she was grinning ear to ear as she passed over the present wrapped in silver. Quickly, she plopped down on the grassy floor next to him. The pair had left the adults to their conversation and took off into the rain forest that was Mai's back yard, like they had done so many times before._

"_But…" the young mutant started to stutter. He was confused for a moment as he stared back. Surely they had had this conversation before, he didn't get to have a birthday, ever. "Mai," he finally started to talk to his young friend but he managed to only speak her name before she interrupted him._

"_I know," she confirmed. "No birthdays ever," and she folded her hands in her lap as she sat next to her green friend. "I promise not to tell," she reassured him. _

_Earlier in the day the young friends finished birthday cake as Mai opened her presents. Her father had gotten her a new computer. Jake picked out some sparkle head bands for Mai. M picked out a simple bracelet for her, gold with little pastel flowers. Jake had informed him that when it comes to girls, jewelry was always your best bet. But Caitlin, she just had to get Mai some makeup, it was the girl's 13__th__ birthday after all._

_M stared at the little box, not sure what he should do._

"_Well," Mai gave him a quizzical look and shifted closer to him. "Open it," she urged with a nudge to his shoulder._

_Nodding silently, M did as he was told and started off gently peeling away the silver wrapping only to get a little excited and finish tearing the paper away. Lifting the lid of the little white box, he found a medallion of a crescent moon, a creamy blue, attached to a small leather cord. "Cool," he whispered in awe as he lifted it out of its box, the small piece of metal dangling in front of his eyes._

"_You really like it?" Mai asked with a bit of hesitancy and M nodded yes as a he started to smile. "It's part of a set," she explained._

_The young mutant looked over as he struggled to comfortably fit the leather strap around his neck. "Stupid bowtie," he muttered. "What set?" he asked as he looked over, his fingers still fumbling with the straps._

_And Mai pulled her half out from under her collar. "I have the sun," the small sun shaped jewelry lay flat in her hand for him to see. Mai smiled as she showed her only friend how the two pieces fit together but M wasn't paying attention. His eyes were on her glossy pink lips. _

_Earlier, inside at the table, the excited teenage girl opened up Caitlin's present. She just had to put the lip gloss on and puckered her lips once or twice. Finding himself suddenly uncomfortable, the young mutant shifted in his chair at the table and tugged at the bowtie. _

_But now, they were sitting in their favorite spot, leaning up against a Kapok tree, under the shade. Flowers bloomed everywhere and small creek trickled by. Again he pulled at the restrictive dress attire._

"_Oh here," Mai jumped over so she kneeled in front of him. She brushed her long blonde locks out of the way and leaned in to untie the black cloth. M's heart jumped into his throat as her fingers brushed against his skin, leaving him to wonder what was wrong with him. After which, she unbuttoned the two top buttons of his shirt. "Better?" she asked, face to face with him._

_M could only nod 'yes' as he suddenly found himself tongue-tied. Caitlin just had to get her some lip gloss…..and perfume? M looked away and sighed. Why did she have to smell so good?_

_Mai noticed the strange look he gave her before he diverted his eyes from hers. "What's wrong?" she asked, her tone showing her concern and laced with a trace of hurt. "Don't you like your present?" she leaned back on the grassy floor and tugged at the hem of her pink sundress._

"_I do, Mai," M replied in earnest. "Honest." His eyes were still turned away, staring at the ground._

_Mai sat back down next to M and folded her hands in her lap. "But why are you acting so strange?" She looked over at him, expecting an answer but all she got was a shrug of the shoulders. "M," Mai tried once more. "You're my best friend and I thought I was yours."_

"_You are," he answered silently as he absentmindedly plucked at the grass._

"_Then why won't you tell me what's wrong?"_

"_Nothing's wrong." _

_Mustering up his courage, he faced her once more. "It's just that…"and he was caught in her gaze again, staring at her pink lips. His stomach turned to mush and felt like it was rolling around inside of him. "You're so…" he tried to continue as he leaned forward and swallowed hard, trying not to chicken out._

"_What?"_

"_Pretty," M finally whispered as he and Mai pressed their lips together, her fingers latched onto his. It was a first kiss for the both of them_

Raphael sat there, still staring at the old, tarnished crescent moon. His right leg was outstretched and his left was bent at the knee. He leaned over and pulled out an old envelope. It was no longer white but a dingy yellow. His large fingers pulled gently at the lid of the envelope but after several years of sitting in the large box, it had begun to dry out. The lip of the paper folds tore anyway.

Carefully he reached in and pulled out photos of the two. Raphael smiled as he looked at the pictures from Mai's 13th birthday. On one Polaroid was a picture of him and Mai, at the table with all 13 candles on Mai's cake lit. She was smiling wide but he had to force his grin. He felt like he couldn't breathe with that stupid tie on. For the life of him he couldn't figure out why exactly Caitlin thought it looked cute.

The second photo was taken just before he and his two handlers left. He and Mai had dark mud splattered about their clothing and faces, their arms wrapped around each other as they laughed happily. This time the young mutants smile was genuine.

Raphael gave a quiet chuckle while he looked at the photo but his smile quickly faded. When he, Jake and Caitlin returned the next month, the house was vacant. There was no note, no indication of where the pair had gone, nothing. The young mutant was heartbroken.

The large turtle sighed as he drew his legs up and rested his arms on them. Tilting his head back against the mattress, he closed his eyes and let his mind wander. He kept thinking about the question Angie had asked him, did he love Mai? He wasn't sure and was trying not to dwell on it. He tried to argue with himself that Mai was gone so why bother. It didn't do him any good and the large turtle ended up wiping a few stray tears from his eyes. Letting out a breath, Raphael held tight to the two pictures as he closed the lid to his storage box and sat back in the bed. Taking a sip of his scotch, he stared at the pictures once more.

After the night he and Mai spent together, the following morning was a little awkward for the both of them.

_Mai was in the bathroom, getting dressed after her shower when she heard a soft knock on the door. "Just a sec," she answered it. Quickly she pulled on the black sweater and stared at herself in the mirror. _

_The sweater was one of M's and was definitely on the large side for her small frame. The sleeves hung 2 inches past her hands and the base of the sweater went to the middle of her thighs. Still, he offered and she took it, especially after he told her the second day of their journey was going to be much chillier than the previous one. Buckling her jeans, she grabbed her socks and opened the door._

_M gave her a quiet 'morning' as he passed her a cup of coffee. "Sleep okay?" he managed to get out._

_Mai nodded as she took a sip of the coffee. Her companion stepped aside as she made her way past to put her socks and shoes on. Quietly, Mai sat on the bed and placed the coffee cup on the nightstand beside her. The mug out of her way, she went about putting on her socks and shoes. She bounced a bit when the large mutant sat next to her. He watched and waited for her to finish her task._

"_You okay?"_

"_Yeah," she finally smiled and looked over. "You?"_

_M just nodded and shifted around to the left a little and reached out slowly to rub the side of her face with his left hand. Mai placed hers on top of his and gave a gentle squeeze. M let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding in. "Are we still…" and he paused trying to figure out what he wanted to say._

"_Friends?" Mai finished for him. "You've always been my best friend M." and she smiled as she slid her hand up his arm, cupping his cheek. Her eyes widened when he brought his right hand forward and opened it up to reveal a small, blue crescent moon, minus a leather strip. He couldn't help but grin when she leaned over and hugged him tight._

_Without even thinking M pulled her over into his lap and kissed her again. "How about we wait to talk when we're on the plane and we're both not so nervous."_

_Mai nodded yes and leaned in to kiss him. _

Maybe he did love her, he mused to himself. Maybe that's why he wasn't sure about being so close with Angie just yet. His thoughts moving to his current girlfriend he had to wonder why she was with him. They were never going to be a normal couple. He would never be able to take her to dinner, a movie, no where public. But still, she was more than happy to devote her time to being with him. And he shuddered as somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Overseer's malicious voice reminding him he wasn't human and how dare he act like one. Taking the last sip of his scotch, he placed the two pictures under his pillow and went to sleep.

"Donatello?" Splinter asked as he poked his head into his son's room. On the previous evening, he had asked both Donatello and Leonardo what had been bothering them. Leonardo explained the events of the evening to his father but Donatello was less than forthcoming. He simply nodded in agreement to his brother's statements. Splinter had hoped that Donatello would voice his concerns with a one on one conversation.

Splinter gave a look around to a somewhat tidy room. This was a more organized sense of clutter with certain areas, probably small experiments, kept immaculate. He smiled and shook his head at the sight of Donatello, sprawled out on his bed, an anatomy book splayed open. Chuckling to himself, the ninja master made no noise as he walked over and removed the book. Lastly, he covered Donatello with his blanket and went downstairs to get some sleep.

Michelangelo awoke to a very uneasy feeling. At 4 in the morning, it was unusual for him to be awake but he couldn't help it. His brother was having a nightmare, calling out for help. As quickly as he could, he grabbed his crutches and made his way down the hall to his brother's room.

"Raph?" the youngest whispered loudly as he finally made it to his brother's door. "Raph," he said a little louder the second time but it was useless. Michelangelo's brother was anchored deep in a nightmare and a simple name calling wasn't going to wake him up. His heart sank when he watched his brother jerk and whimper, asking or rather begging really, for someone to stop what they were doing to him.

Wanting to help his brother, the orange banded turtle set his crutches to the side and balanced on his good foot. He firmly grasped Raphael by the shoulders, trying to shake him awake.

Michelangelo let out a loud yelp as he hollered Raphael's name. Frightened and not fully cognizant, the largest of the turtles had propelled himself forward. He reached out instinctively, trying to stop his attacker. As a result, Michelangelo found himself on the floor, Raphael straddling him, his large hands doing their best to crush Michelangelo's neck.

Gasping for breath, Michelangelo pushed at Raphael's face but it did no good. Continuing his efforts, he began to pull his legs up so he could push his brother off with his feet. Immediately, Raphael clamped his feet around those of his little brother. A muffled cry came from Michelangelo's mouth as pressured was applied directly to his injured foot. His vision became blurry as Raphael continued to try and crush his brother's neck. All the while Michelangelo grasped at any and everything he could reach to hit his brother with.

Just as he was about to black out, two strong sets of hands grabbed Raphael by the shoulders and flung him backwards against the wall. Slamming against the brick, the large turtle sat still, stunned, and breathing heavily. He slowly became aware of the fact that Leonardo and Donatello were in his room crouched down at the head of his bed, giving reassuring whispers to the youngest. Michelangelo was lying on the floor, coughing loudly and gasping for breath.

Gently, Raphael touched a sore spot on the left side of his head. A large knot was beginning to swell and a small trickle of blood slowly dripped down. Looking at the red drops on the tips of his fingers and back at Michelangelo, he quickly became confused. "Mi….mike?" he managed to get out. Struggling to move he began to try and move forward to reach out to his little brother.

He was stopped by Leonardo. The leader held his hand out indicating for the large turtle to stop and a stern but soft voice telling him to be still.

Raphael looked over as a gentle paw pulled on his face and applied a wet cloth to his head. "Dad?" he asked with a shaky voice. Splinter's hand was now over Raphael's so he would hold the cloth in place. "What…..what happened?"

"Sssshhhhhhhhhhh Raphael," Splinter spoke softly. "You had a nightmare," and he looked over at his other three with concern on his face. Donatello and Leonardo were hoisting up a shaken but otherwise okay Michelangelo. The fatherly rat felt more at ease when Leonardo looked him in the eye and nodded, mouthing the words 'he's fine.'

Turning his attention back to Raphael, Splinter spoke in a whisper. "I believe Michelangelo tried to wake you."

Eyes widened in panic at the realization of what he had done, the large turtle tried once more to reach out to his little brother as the other two turtles helped him limp out. "Mike?" and he watched as they went out into the hall and called once more, a little louder this time. "MIKE?"

Splinter tried his best to calm Raphael down, speaking to the large turtle in a soothing voice, assuring him that Michelangelo was fine but it did no good.

Mustering his strength, Raphael tried numerous times to push past his father who had his paws on the turtles shoulder. "What…" and he twisted and tried to move once more. "What did I do?!" His head hurting and dizzy, he wasn't much to contend with. It took little effort to keep the large turtle from standing up. Keeping him still however, was proving to be more difficult.

"Donatello!" Splinter called out as Raphael did his best to pull at his father's hands and shove with his feet. All the while, he tried to tell his father to let him up.

Down in the infirmary, Donatello heard his father's voice. Noticing the urgency in Splinter's call, the family doctor turned to grab a grey box and then ran back up to Raphael's room.

Kneeling down, he grasped at the large turtles right arm while Splinter tried to hold him still. Noticing the needle, Raphael whimpered and tried to push himself up against the wall begging his brother to stop.

Downstairs, Leonardo looked at his brother with a serious concern. "Mike are you feeling okay?" and he leaned down to look his brother in the eyes.

Michelangelo was sitting on the small bed in the infirmary. His injured foot was propped up on a chair while Leonardo gently held a small towel against the base of it. Michelangelo's hands were grasped tightly around an oxygen mask as he slowly inhaled and exhaled. Forcing a weak smile, he nodded yes to his brother's question.

"I don't think he knew what he was doing," Leo said as he leaned forward and placed one hand on Michelangelo's shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze.

"He didn't." Michelangelo removed the mask briefly to talk and shook his head 'no' at his brother's question. The talking irritating his airway, he started to cough once more, trying to inhale.

Leonardo stood up and directed the mask back over Michelangelo's face. "Breathe," he gently ordered. He got no argument from Michelangelo as the youngest merely nodded in agreement.

Only a few minutes into what seemed like an eternity, Donatello walked back into the room.

Quickly Michelangelo looked over and began to remove the mask, Leonardo's hand stopping him.

"How is he?" the leader asked.

"He'll be okay," Donatello answered as he retrieved a needle, thread and a syringe. He chuckled a little as Michelangelo's eyes widened. "You popped your stitches Mikey," the family doctor shrugged his shoulders. "I have to fix it."

As Donatello was finishing up his work, Leonardo stayed sitting by Michelangelo, his arm around his brother. Splinter walked in and smiled at his youngest.

"Master Splinter," Michelangelo spoke up, his face cringing as he felt the needle pierce his skin. Quickly the feeling was replaced with a feeling of numbness. "He didn't mean too."

"I know Michelangelo," Splinter tried to reassure him. He spoke in a soothing voice. "Did you manage to see any of what he may have dreamed?"

Michelangelo shook his head 'no' as he held the mask back over his mouth and inhaled once more. "Is he alright?"

Splinter nodded 'yes' as Donatello finished his stitching.

"I only gave him a small amount of the sedative Mike," the family doctor continued the conversation. "Just enough to calm him down so he could sleep."

Splinter looked at his three remaining children. "I believe we should all go back to bed and get some rest." His three sons nodded in agreement. "We will practice later in the day, and Michelangelo," he stared directly at the youngest. "Should Raphael have another nightmare, you will get one of your brother's to go in with you."

"Yes sensei," the youngest answered with a sheepish smile.

Quietly, everyone went back to bed to try and salvage a few more hours of rest.


End file.
